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A  LADY  SOMEWHAT   STRANGELY   ATTIRED   STEPPED  FORTH. 

Frontispiece— Stevenson,  Vol.  Fourteen. 


MORE  NEW  ARABIAN  NIGHTS 

THE    DYNAMITER 


BY 

ROBERT   LOUIS   STEVENSON 

AND 

FANNY  VAN  DE  GRIFT  STEVENSON 


Volume   Fourteen 


New  York 
PETER   FENELON  COLLIER,  PUBLISHER 


CONTENTS 


VOLUME  FOURTEEN 


THE    DYNAMITER 

PAGE 

Prologue  of  the  .Cigar  Divan 7" 

Challoner's  Adventure:  The  Squire  of  Dames 16 

Story  of  the  Destroying  Angel 27 

The  Squire  of  Dames  (concluded) 68 

Somerset's  Adventure:   The  Superfluous  Mansion 89 

Narrative  of  the  Spirited  Old  Lady 94 

The  Superfluous  Mansion  (continued) 127 

Zero's  Tale  of  the  Explosive  Bomb 159 

The  Superfluous  Mansion  (continued) 176 

Desborough's  Adventure:  The  Brown  Box 182 

Story  of  the  Fair  Cuban 190 

The  Brown  Box  (concluded) 233 

The  Superfluous  Mansion  (concluded) 248 

Epilogue  of  the  Cigar  Divan 259 

(3) 


TO 

MESSRS.    COLE   AND   COX 

POLICE    OFFICEKS 


Gentlemen — In  the  volume  now  in  your  hands,  the 
authors  have  touched  upon  the  ugly  devil  of  crime,  with 
which  it  is  your  glory  to  have  contended.  It  were  a  waste 
of  ink  to  do  so  in  a  serious  spirit.  Let  us  dedicate  our  horror 
to  acts  of  a  more  mingled  strain,  where  crime  preserves  some 
features  of  nobility,  and  where  reason  and  humanity  can  still 
relish  the  temptation.  Horror,  in  this  case,  is  due  to  Mr. 
Parnell :  he  sits  before  posterity  silent,  Mr.  Foster's  appeal 
echoing  down  the  ages.  Horror  is  due  to  ourselves,  in  that 
we  have  so  long  coquetted  with  political  crime;  not  seriously 
weighing,  not  acutely  following  it  from  cause  to  consequence; 
but  with  a  generous,  unfounded  heat  of  sentiment,  like  the 
schoolboy  with  the  penny  tale,  applauding  what  was  specious. 
When  it  touched  ourselves  (truly  in  a  vile  shape)  we  proved 
false  to  these  imaginations ;  discovered,  in  a  clap,  that  crime 
was  no  less  cruel  and  no  less  ugly  under  sounding  names :  and 
recoiled  from  our  false  deities. 

But  seriousness  comes  most  in  place  when  we  are  to  speak 
of  our  defenders.  Whoever  be  in  the  right  in  this  great  and 
confused  war  of  politics;  whatever  elements  of  greed,  what- 
ever traits  of  the  bully,  dishonor  both  parties  in  this  inhuman 
contest; — your  side,  your  part,  is  at  least  pure  of  doubt. 
Yours  is  the  side  of  the  child,  of  the  breeding  woman,  of  in- 
dividual pity  and  public  trust.  If  our  society  were  the  mere 
kingdom  of  the  devil  (as  indeed  it  wears  some  of  its  colors) 

(5) 


6  Dedication 

it  yet  embraces  many  precious  elements  and  many  innocent 
persons  whom  it  is  a  glory  to  defend.  Courage  and  devo- 
tion, so  common  in  the  ranks  of  the  police,  so  little  recog- 
nized, so  meagerly  rewarded,  have  at  length  found  their 
commemoration  in  an  historical  act.  History,  which  will 
represent  Mr.  Parnell  sitting  silent  under  the  appeal  of  Mr. 
Foster,  and  Gordon  setting  forth  upon  his  tragic  enterprise, 
will  not  forget  Mr.  Cole  carrying  the  dynamite  in  his  de- 
fenseless hands,  nor  Mr.  Cox  coming  coolly  to  his  aid. 

Robert  Louis  Stevenson. 

Fanny  van  de  Grift  Stevenson. 


A  NOTE  FOR  THE   READER 

It  is  within  the  bounds  of  possibility  that  you  may  take 
up  this  volume,  and  yet  be  unacquainted  with  its  predeces- 
sor; the  first  series  of  New  Arabian  Nights.  The  loss  is 
yours— and  mine;  or  to  be  more  exact,  my  publisher's.  But 
if  you  are  thus  unlucky,  the  least  I  can  do  is  to  pass  you  a 
hint.  When  you  shall  find  a  reference  in  the  following  pages 
to  one  Theophilus  Godall  of  the  Bohemian  Cigar  Divan  in 
Rupert  Street,  Soho,  you  must  be  prepared  to  recognize,  un- 
der his  features,  no  less  a  person  than  Prince  Florizel  of  Bo- 
hemia, formerly  one  of  the  magnates  of  Europe,  now  de- 
throned, exiled,  impoverished,  and  embarked  in  the  tobacco 
trade. 

R.  L.  S. 


NEW  ARABIAN   NIGHTS 

A    SECOND  SERIES 


THE  DYNAMITER 


PROLOGUE  OF  THE  CIGAR  DIVAN 

In  the  city  of  encounters,  the  Bagdad  of  the  "West, 
and,  to  be  more  precise,  on  the  broad  northern  pave- 
ment of  Leicester  Square,  two  young  men  of  five-  or 
six-and  twenty  met  after  years  of  separation.  The  first, 
who  was  of  a  very  smooth  address  and  clothed  in  the 
best  fashion,  hesitated  to  recognize  the  pinched  and 
shabby   air  of  his   companion. 

"What!"   he  cried,    "Paul   Somerset?" 

"I  am  indeed  Paul  Somerset,"  returned  the  other, 
"or  what  remains  of  him  after  a  well-deserved  experi- 
ence of  poverty  and  law.  But  in  you,  Challoner,  I  can 
perceive  no  change;  and  time  may  be  said,  without 
hyperbole,    to   write   no  wrinkle   on  your  azure   brow." 

"All,"  replied  Challoner,  "is  not  gold  that  glitters. 
But  we  are  here  in  an  ill  posture  for  confidences,  and 
interrupt  the  movement  of  these  ladies.  Let  us,  if  you 
please,   find  a  more  private  corner." 

"If  you  will  allow  me  to  guide  you,"  replied  Som- 
erset,   "I   will  offer  you  the   best   cigar  in   London." 

(?) 


8  U/orkS   of  Robert   Couis   Stevenson 

And  taking  the  arm  of  his  companion,  he  led  him 
in  silence  and  at  a  brisk  pace  to  the  door  of  a  quiet 
establishment  in  Rupert  Street,  Soho.  The  entrance  was 
adorned  with  one  of  those  gigantic  Highlanders  of  wood 
which  have  almost  risen  to  the  standing  of  antiquities; 
and  across  the  window-glass,  which  sheltered  the  usual 
display  of  pipes,  tobacco,  and  cigars,  there  ran  the 
gilded  legend:  "Bohemian  Cigar  Divan,  by  T.  Godall." 
The  interior  of  the  shop  was  small,  but  commodious 
and  ornate:  the  salesman  grave,  smiling,  and  urbane; 
and  the  two  young  men,  each  puffing  a  select  regalia, 
had  soon  taken  their  places  on  a  sofa  of  mouse-colored 
plush  and  proceeded  to  exchange  their  stories. 

"I  am  now,"  said  Somerset,  "a  barrister;  but  Provi- 
dence and  the  attorneys  have  hitherto  denied  me  the 
opportunity  to  shine.  A  select  society  at  the  Cheshire 
Cheese  engaged  my  evenings;  my  afternoons,  as  Mr. 
Godall  could  testify,  have  been  generally  passed  in  this 
divan;  and  my  mornings,  I  have  taken  the  precaution 
to  abbreviate  by  not  rising  before  twelve.  At  this  rate, 
my  little  patrimony  was  very  rapidly,  and  I  am  proud 
to  remember,  most  agreeably  expended.  Since  then  a 
gentleman,  who  has  really  nothing  else  to  recommend 
him  beyond  the  fact  of  being  my  maternal  uncle,  deals 
me  the  small  sum  of  ten  shillings  a  week;  and  if  you 
behold  me  once  more  revisiting  the  glimpses  of  the 
street  lamps  in  my  favorite  quarter,  you  will  readily 
divine  that   I  have  come  into  a  fortune." 

"I  should  not  have  supposed  so,"  replied  Challoner. 
"But  doubtless  I  met  you  on  the  way  to  your  tailor's." 

"It  is  a  visit  I  purpose  to  delay,"  returned  Somerset, 
with  a  smile.     "My  fortune  has  definite  limits.     It  con- 


JI?e   Dynamiter  9 

sists,  or  rather  this  morning  it  consisted,  of  one  hundred 
pounds." 

"That  is  certainly  odd,"  said  Challoner;  "yes,  cer- 
tainly the  coincidence  is  strange.  I  am  myself  reduced 
to  the  same  margin." 

"You!"  cried  Somerset.  "And  yet  Solomon  in  all 
his  glory — " 

"Such  is  the  fact.  I  am,  dear  boy,  on  my  last 
legs,"  said  Challoner.  "Besides  the  clothes  in  which 
you  see  me,  I  have  scarcely  a  decent  trouser  in  my 
wardrobe;  and  if  I  knew  how,  I  would  this  instant  set 
about  some  sort  of  work  or  commerce.  With  a  hundred 
pounds  for  capital,    a  man  should  push  his  way." 

"It  may  be,"  returned  Somerset;  "but  what  to  do 
with  mine  is  more  than  I  can  fancy.  Mr.  Godall,"  he 
added,  addressing  the  salesman,  "you  are  a  man  who 
knows  the  world:  what  can  a  young  fellow  of  reason- 
able education  do  with  a  hundred  pounds?" 

"It  depends,"  replied  the  salesman,  withdrawing  his 
cheroot.  "The  power  of  money  is  an  article  of  faith 
in  which  I  profess  myself  a  skeptic.  A  hundred  pounds 
will  with  difficulty  support  you  for  a  year;  with  some- 
what more  difficulty  you  may  spend  it  in  a  night;  and 
without  any  difficulty  at  all  you  may  lose  it  in  five 
minutes  on  the  Stock  Exchange.  If  you  are  of  that 
stamp  of  man  that  rises,  a  penny  would  be  as  useful; 
if  you  belong  to  those  that  fall,  a  penny  would  be  no 
more  useless.  When  I  was  myself  thrown  unexpectedly 
upon  the  world,  it  was  my  fortune  to  possess  an  art: 
I  knew  a  good  cigar.  Do  you  know  nothing,  Mr. 
Somerset?" 

"Not  even  law,"   was  the  reply. 


10  U/orHj   of  Robert   Couis   Stev/ei)50i? 

"The  answer  is  worthy  of  a  sage,"  returned  Mr. 
Godall.  "And  you,  sir,"  he  continued,  turning  to 
Challoner,  "as  the  friend  of  Mr.  Somerset,  may  I  be 
allowed  to  address  you   the  same  question?" 

"Well,"  replied  Challoner,  "I  play  a  fair  hand  at 
whist." 

"How  many  persons  are  there  in  London,"  returned 
the  salesman,  "who  have  two-and- thirty  teeth?  Believe 
me,  young  gentleman,  there  are  more  still  who  play  a 
fair  hand  at  whist.  Whist,  sir,  is  wide  as  the  world: 
'tis  an  accomplishment  like  breathing.  I  once  knew  a 
youth  who  announced,  that  he  was  studying  to  be 
Chancellor  of  England;  the  design  was  certainly  ambi- 
tious; but  I  find  it  less  excessive  than  that  of  the  man 
who   aspires   to   make   a  livelihood  by   whist." 

"Dear  me,"  said  Challoner,  "I  am  afraid  I  shall 
have  to  fall  to  be  a  working   man." 

"Fall  to  be  a  working  man?"  echoed  Mr.  Godall. 
"Suppose  a  rural  dean  to  be  unfrocked,  does  he  fall  to 
be  a  major?  suppose  a  captain  were  cashiered,  would 
he  fall  to  be  a  puisne  judge?  The  ignorance  of  your 
middle  class  surprises  me.  Outside  itself,  it  thinks  the 
world  to  lie  quite  ignorant  and  equal,  sunk  in  a  com- 
mon degradation;  but  to  the  eye  of  the  observer,  all 
ranks  are  seen  to  stand  in  ordered  hierarchies,  and  each 
adorned  with  its  particular  aptitudes  and  knowledge. 
By  tbe  defects  of  your  education  you  are  more  dis- 
qualified to  be  a  working  man  than  to  be  the  ruler  of 
an  empire.  The  gulf,  sir,  is  below;  and  the  true  learned 
arts — those  which  alone  are  safe  from  the  competition 
of  insurgent  laymen — are  those  which  give  his  title  to 
the  artisan." 


JI?e    Dynamiter  11 

"This  is  a  very  pompous  fellow,"  said  Challoner  in 
the  ear  of  his  companion. 

"He  is  immense,"   said   Somerset. 

Just  then  the  door  of  the  divan  opened,  and  a  third 
young  fellow  made  his  appearance,  and  rather  bashfully 
requested  some  tobacco.  He  was  younger  than  the 
others;  and,  in  a  somewhat  meaningless  and  altogether 
English  way,  he  was  a  handsome  lad.  When  he  had 
been  served,  and  had  lighted  his  pipe  and  taken  his 
place  upon  the  sofa,  he  recalled  himself  to  Challoner  by 
the  name  of  Desborough. 

"Desborough,  to  be  sure,"  cried  Challoner.  "Well, 
Desborough,   and  what  do  you  do?" 

"The  fact  is,"  said  Desborough,  "that  I  am  doing 
nothing." 

"A  private  fortune  possibly?"   inquired  the  other. 

"Well,  no,"  replied  Desborough,  rather  sulkily.  "The 
fact    is    that   I   am   waiting  for  something    to   turn  up." 

"All  in  the  same  boat!"  cried  Somerset.  "And  have 
you,    too,    one  hundred  pounds?" 

"Worse  luck,"   said   Mr.    Desborough. 

"This  is  a  very  pathetic  sight,  Mr.  Godall,"  said 
Somerset:     "Three  f utiles." 

"A  character  of  this  crowded  age,"  returned  the 
salesman. 

"Sir,"  said  Somerset,  "I  deny  that  the  age  is 
crowded;  I  will  admit  one  fact,  and  that  one  fact  only: 
that  I  am  futile,  that  he  is  futile,  and  that  we  are  all 
three  as  futile  as  the  devil.  What  am  I?  I  have 
smattered  law,  smattered  letters,  smattered  geography, 
smattered  mathematics;  I  have  even  a  working  knowl- 
edge of  judicial  astrology;    and  here   I  stand,  all  London 


12  U/orKs   of  Robert   C0U15   Steuepsoo 

roaring  by  at  the  street's  end,  as  impotent  as  any  baby. 
I  have  a  prodigious  contempt  for  my  maternal  uncle; 
but  without  him,  it  is  idle  to  deny  it,  I  should  simply 
resolve  into  my  elements  like  an  unstable  mixture.  I 
begin  to  perceive  that  it  is  necessary  to  know  some  one 
thing  to  the  bottom — were  it  only  a  literature.  And 
yet,  sir,  the  man  of  the  world  is  a  great  feature  of 
this  age;  he  is  possessed  of  an  extraordinary  mass  and 
variety  of  knowledge;  he  is  everywhere  at  home;  he 
has  seen  life  in  all  its  phases;  and  it  is  impossible  but 
that  this  great  habit  of  existence  should  bear  fruit.  I 
count  myself  a  man  of  the  world,  accomplished,  cap-a- 
pie.     So  do  you,  Challoner.     And  you,  Mr.  Desborough?" 

"Oh,   yes,"   returned  the  young  man. 

"Well,  then,  Mr.  Godall,  here  we  stand,  three  men 
of  the  world,  without  a  trade  to  cover  us,  but  planted 
at  the  strategic  center  of  the  universe  (for  so  you  will 
allow  me  to  call  Rupert  Street)  in  the  midst  of  the 
chief  mass  of  people,  and  within  ear-shot  of  the  most 
continuous  chink  of  money  on  the  surface  of  the  globe. 
Sir,  as  civilized  men,  what  do  we  do?  I  will  show 
you.     You  take  in  a  paper?" 

"I  take,"  said  Mr.  Godall,  solemnly,  "the  best  paper 
in  the  world,   the   'Standard.'  " 

"Good,"  resumed  Somerset.  "I  now  hold  it  in  my 
hand,  the  voice  of  the  world,  a  telephone  repeating  all 
men's  wants.  I  open  it,  and  where  my  eye  first  falls 
— well,  no,  not  Morrison's  Pills — but  here,  sure  enough, 
and  but  a  little  above,  I  find  the  joint  that  I  was 
seeking;  here  is  the  weak  spot  in  the  armor  of  society. 
Here  is  a  want,  a  plaint,  an  offer  of  substantial  grati- 
tude i    lTwo  Hundred  Pounds  Reward. — The    above  re- 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  13 

ward  will  be  paid  to  any  person  giving  information  as 
to  the  identity  and  whereabouts  of  a  man  observed  yes- 
terday in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Green  Park.  He  was 
over  six  feet  in  height,  with  shoulders  disproportionately 
broad,  close  shaved,  with  black  mustaches,  and  wearing 
a  sealskin  great  coat.'  There,  gentleman,  our  fortune, 
if  not  made,   is  founded." 

"Do  you  then  propose,  dear  boy,  that  we  should 
turn  detectives?"   inquired   Challoner. 

"Do  I  propose  it?  No,  sir,"  cried  Somerset.  "It  is 
reason,  destiny,  the  plain  face  of  the  world,  that  com- 
mands and  imposes  it.  Here  all  our  merits  tell;  our 
manners,  habit  of  the  world,  powers  of  conversation, 
vast  stores  of  unconnected  knowledge,  all  that  we  are 
and  have  builds  up  the  character  of  the  complete  de- 
tective. It  is,  in  short,  the  only  profession  for  a  gen- 
tleman." 

"The  proposition  is  perhaps  excessive,"  said  Chal- 
loner; "for  hitherto  I  own  I  have  regarded  it  as  of 
all  dirty,  sneaking  and  ungentlemanly  trades,  the  least 
and  lowest." 

"To  defend  society?"  asked  Somerset;  "to  stake 
one's  life  for  others?  to  deracinate  occult  and  powerful 
evil?  I  appeal  to  Mr.  Godall.  He,  at  least,  as  a  philo- 
sophic looker-on  at  life,  will  spit  upon  such  philistine 
opinions.  He  knows  that  the  policeman,  as  he  is  called 
upon  continually  to  face  greater  odds,  and  that  both 
worse  equipped  and  for  a  better  cause,  is  in  form  and 
essence  a  more  noble  hero  than  the  soldier.  Do  you,  by 
any  chance,  deceive  yourself,  by  supposing  that  a  gen- 
eral would  either  ask  or  expect,  from  the  best  army 
ever  marshaled,  and  on  the  most  momentous  battlefield, 


14  U/orKs   of   Robert    Couis    Steuenson 

the  conduct  of  a  common  constable  at  Peckham 
Rye."* 

"I  did  not  understand  we  were  to  join  the  force," 
said  Challoner. 

"Nor  shall  we.  These  are  the  hands;  but  here — here, 
sir,  is  the  head,"  cried  Somerset.  "Enough;  it  is  de- 
creed. We  shall  hunt  down  this  miscreant  in  the  seal- 
skin coat." 

"Suppose  that  we  agreed,"  retorted  Challoner;  "you 
have  no  plan,  no  knowledge;  you  know  not  where  to 
seek  for  a  beginning." 

"Challoner!"  cried  Somerset,  "is  it  possible  that  you 
hold  the  doctrine  of  Free  "Will?  And  are  you  devoid  of 
any  tincture  of  philosophy,  that  you  should  harp  on  such 
exploded  fallacies?  Chance,  the  blind  Madonna  of  the 
Pagan,  rules  this  terrestrial  bustle;  and  in  Chance  I 
place  my  sole  reliance.  Chance  has  brought  us  three 
together;  when  we  next  separate  and  go  forth  our 
several  ways,  Chance  will  continually  drag  before  our 
careless  eyes  a  thousand  eloquent  clews,  not  to  this 
mystery  only,  but  to  the  countless  mysteries  by  which 
we  live  surrounded.  Then  comes  the  part  of  the  man 
of    the  world,   of    the    detective    born    and    bred.     This 

*  Hereupon  the  Arabian  author  enters  on  one  of  his  di- 
gressions. Fearing,  apparently,  that  the  somewhat  eccentric 
views  of  Mr.  Somerset  should  throw  discredit  on  a  part  of 
truth,  he  calls  upon  the  English  People  to  remember  with 
more  gratitude  the  services  of  the  police ;  to  what  unobserved 
and  solitary  acts  of  heroism  they  are  called;  against  what 
odds  of  numbers  and  of  arms,  and  for  how  small  a  reward, 
either  in  fame  or  money;  matter,  it  has  appeared  to  the 
translators,  too  serious  for  this  place. 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  15 

clew,  which  the  whole  town  beholds  without  compre- 
hension, swift  as  a  cat,  he  leaps  upon  it,  makes  it  his, 
follows  it  with  craft  and  passion,  and  from  one  trifling 
circumstance   divines   a   world." 

"Just  so,"  said  Challoner;  "and  I  am  delighted  that 
you  should  recognize  these  virtues  in  yourself.  But  in 
the  meanwhile,  dear  boy,  I  own  myself  incapable  of 
joining.  I  was  neither  born  nor  bred  as  a  detective, 
but  as  a  placable  and  very  thirsty  gentleman;  and,  for 
my  part,  I  begin  to  weary  for  a  drink.  As  for  clews 
and  adventures,  the  only  adventure  that  is  ever  likely 
to  occur  to  me  will  be  an  adventure  with  a  bailiff." 

"Now  there  is  the  fallacy,"  cried  Somerset.  "There 
I  catch  the  secret  of  your  futility  in  life.  The  world 
teems  and  bubbles  with  adventure;  it  besieges  you 
along  the  street:  hands  waving  out  of  windows,  swin- 
dlers coming  up  and  swearing  they  knew  you  when 
you  were  abroad,  affable  and  doubtful  people  of  all 
sorts  and  conditions  begging  and  truckling  for  your 
notice.  But  not  you:  you  turn  away,  you  walk  your 
seedy  mill  round,  you  must  go  the  dullest  way.  Now 
here,  I  beg  of  you,  the  next  adventure  that  offers 
itself,  embrace  it  in  with  both  your  arms;  whatever  it 
looks,  grimy  or  romantic,  grasp  it.  I  will  do  the  like; 
the  devil  is  in  it,  but  at  least  we  shall  have  fun;  and 
each  in  turn  we  shall  narrate  the  story  of  our  fort- 
unes to  my  philosophical  friend  of  the  divan,  the  great 
Godall,  now  hearing  me  with  inward  joy.  Come,  is  it 
a  bargain?  Will  you,  indeed,  both  promise  to  welcome 
every  chance  that  offers,  to  plunge  boldly  into  every 
opening,  and,  keeping  the  eye  wary  and  the  head 
composed,   to  study  and   piece  together  all  that  happens? 


16  U/orKs   of  Robert   Couis   Stevenson 

Come,  promise:  let  me  open  to  you  the  doors  of  the 
great   profession  of  intrigue." 

"It  is  not  much  in  my  way,"  said  Challoner,  "but, 
since  you  make  a  point  of  it,   amen." 

"I  don't  mind  promising,"  said  Desborough,  "but 
nothing   will  happen   to  me." 

"Oh,  faithless  ones!"  cried  Somerset.  "But  at  least 
I  have  your  promises;  and  Godall,  I  perceive,  is  trans- 
ported  with   delight." 

"I  promise  myself  at  least  much  pleasure  from  your 
various  narratives,"  said  the  salesman,  with  the  cus- 
tomary calm  polish  of  his  manner. 

"And  now,  gentlemen,"  concluded  Somerset,  "let  us 
separate.  I  hasten  to  put  myself  in  fortune's  way. 
Hark  how,  in  this  quiet  corner,  London  roars  like  the 
noise  of  battle;  four  million  destinies  are  here  concen- 
tered; and  in  the  strong  panoply  of  one  hundred 
pounds,  payable  to  the  bearer,  I  am  about  to  plunge 
into   that  web." 


CHALLONER' S    ADVENTURE:     THE     SQUIRE 
OF    DAMES 

Mr.  Edward  Chalt.oner  had  set  up  lodgings  in  the 
suburb  of  Putney,  where  he  enjoyed  a  parlor  and  bed- 
room and  the  sincere  esteem  of  the  people  of  the 
house.  To  this  remote  home  he  found  himself  at  a 
very  early  hour  in  the  morning  of  the  next  day,  con- 
demned to  set  forth  on  foot.  He  was  a  young  man  of 
portly    habit;    no    lover    of    the    exercises    of    the    body; 


Jl?e    Dypamiter  17 

bland,  sedentary,  patient  of  delay,  a  prop  of  omnibuses. 
In  happier  days  he  would  have  chartered  a  cab;  but 
these  luxuries  were  now  denied  him;  and  with  what 
courage  he  could  muster  he  addressed   himself  to   walk. 

It  was  then  the  height  of  the  season  and  the  sum- 
mer; the  weather  was  serene  and  cloudless;  and  as  he 
paced  under  the  blinded  houses  and  along  the  vacant 
streets,  the  chill  of  the  dawn  had  fled,  and  some  of 
the  warmth  and  all  the  brightness  of  the  July  day 
already  shone  upon  the  city.  He  walked  at  first  in  a 
profound  abstraction,  bitterly  reviewing  and  repenting 
his  performances  at  whist;  but  as  he  advanced  into 
the  labyrinth  of  the  southwest,  his  ear  was  gradually 
mastered  by  the  silence.  Street  after  street  looked  down 
upon  his  solitary  figure,  house  after  house  echoed  upon 
his  passage  with  a  ghostly  jar,  shop  after  shop  dis- 
played its  shuttered  front  and  its  commercial  legend; 
and  meanwhile  he  steered  his  course,  under  day's 
effulgent  dome  and  through  this  encampment  of  diurnal 
sleepers,   lonely  as  a  ship. 

"Here,"  he  reflected,  "if  I  were  like  my  scatter- 
brained companion,  here  were  indeed  the  scene  where  I 
might  look  for  an  adventure.  Here,  in  broad  day,  the 
streets  are  secret  as  in  the  blackest  night  of  January, 
and  in  the  midst  of  some  four  million  sleepers,  solitary 
as  the  woods  of  Yucatan.  If  I  but  raise  my  voice  I 
could  summon  up  the  number  of  an  army,  and  yet 
the  grave  is  not  more  silent    than    this    city  of    sleep." 

He  was  still  following  these  quaint  and  serious  mus- 
ings when  he  came  into  a  street  of  more  mingled  in- 
gredients   than   was    common   in    the    quarter.     Here,   on 

the  one  hand,    framed   in   the   walls    and   the   green  tops 

2_  Vol.  XIV. 


18  U/orKs   of  Robert   Couij   Steuenson 

of  trees,  were  several  of  those  discreet,  bijou  residences 
on  which  propriety  is  apt  to  look  askance.  Here,  too, 
were  many  of  the  brick-fronted  barracks  of  the  poor;  a 
plaster  cow,  perhaps,  serving  as  ensign  to  a  dairy,  or  a 
ticket  announcing  the  business  of  the  mangier.  Before 
one  such  house,  that  stood  a  little  separate  among 
walled  gardens,  a  cat  was  playing  with  a  straw,  and 
Challoner  paused  a  moment,  looking  on  this  sleek  and 
solitary  creature,  who  seemed  an  emblem  of  the  neigh- 
boring peace.  With  the  cessation  of  the  sound  of  his 
own  steps  the  silence  fell  dead ;  the  house  stood 
smokeless:  the  blinds  down,  the  whole  machinery  of 
life  arrested;  and  it  seemed  to  Challoner  that  he  should 
hear  the  breathing  of  the  sleepers. 

As  he  so  stood,  he  was  startled  by  a  dull  and  jar- 
ring detonation  from  within.  This  was  followed  by  a 
monstrous  hissing  and  simmering  as  from  a  kettle  of 
the  bigness  of  St.  Paul's;  and  at  the  same  time  from 
every  chink  of  door  and  window  spurted  an  ill-smelling 
vapor.  The  cat  disappeared  with  a  cry.  Within  the 
lodging  house  feet  pounded  on  the  stairs?  the  door 
flew  back  emitting  clouds  of  smoke;  and  two  men  and 
an  elegantly  dressed  young  lady  tumbled  forth  into  the 
street  and  fled  without  a  word.  The  hissing  had  al- 
ready ceased,  the  smoke  was  melting  in  the  air,  the 
whole  event  had  come  and  gone  as  in  a  dream,  and 
still  Challoner  was  rooted  to  the  spot.  At  last  his  rea- 
son and  his  fear  awoke  together,  and  with  the  most 
unwonted  energy   he  fell   to  running. 

Little  by  little  this  first  dash  relaxed,  and  presently 
he  had  resumed  his  sober  gait  and  begun  to  piece  to- 
gether, out    of    the    confused    report    of    his  senses,   some 


Jr;e   Dynamiter  19 

theory  of  the  occurrence.  But  the  occasion  of  the 
sounds  and  stench  that  had  so  suddenly  assailed  him, 
and  the  strange  conjunction  of  fugitives  whom  he  had 
seen  to  issue  from  the  house,  were  mysteries  beyond 
his  plummet.  With  an  obscure  awe  he  considered  them 
in  his  mind,  continuing,  meanwhile,  to  thread  the  web 
of    streets,   and    once    more    alone    in    morning  sunshine. 

In  his  first  retreat  he  had  entirely  wandered;  and 
now,  steering  vaguely  west,  it  was  his  luck  to  light 
upon  an  unpretending  street,  which  presently  widened 
so  as  to  admit  a  strip  of  gardens  in  the  midst.  Here 
was  quite  a  stir  of  birds;  even  at  that  hour,  the  shadow 
of  the  leaves  was  grateful;  instead  of  the  burned  at- 
mosphere of  cities,  there  was  something  brisk  and  rural 
in  the  air;  and  Challoner  paced  forward,  his  eyes  upon 
the  pavement  and  his  mind  running  upon  distant  scenes, 
till  he  was  recalled,  upon  a  sudden,  by  a  wall  that 
blocked  his  further  progress.  This  street,  whose  name  I 
have  forgotten,   is  no  thoroughfare. 

He  was  not  the  first  who  had  wandered  there  that 
morning;  for  as  he  raised  his  eyes  with  an  agreeable 
deliberation,  they  alighted  on  the  figure  of  a  girl,  in 
whom  he  was  struck  to  recognize  the  third  of  the  in- 
congruous fugitives.  She  had  run  there,  seemingly, 
blindfold;  the  wall  had  checked  her  career,  and  being 
entirely  wearied,  she  had  sunk  upon  the  ground  beside 
the  garden  railings,  soiling  her  dress  among  the  sum- 
mer dust.  Each  saw  the  other  in  the  same  instant  of 
time;  and  she,  with  one  wild  look,  sprang  to  her  feet 
and  began   to  hurry  from  the  scene. 

Challoner  was  doubly  startled  to  meet  once  more 
the    heroine    of    his    adventure    and    to    observe  the  fear 


20  U/or^s   of   Robert   Couis   Steueoson 

with  which  she  shunned  him.  Pity  and  alarm,  in 
nearly  equal  forces,  contested  the  possession  of  his 
mind,  and  yet,  in  spite  of  both,  he  saw  himself  con- 
demned to  follow  in  the  lady's  wake.  He  did  so  gin- 
gerly, as  fearing  to  increase  her  terrors;  but  tread  as 
lightly  as  he  might  his  footfalls  eloquently  echoed  in 
the  empty  street.  Their  sound  appeared  to  strike  in 
her  some  strong  emotion,  for  scarce  had  he  begun  to 
follow  ere  she  paused.  A  second  time  she  addressed 
herself  to  flight,  and  a  second  time  she  paused.  Then 
she  turned  about,  and  with  doubtful  steps  and  the 
most  attractive  appearance  of  timidity,  drew  near  to 
the  young  man.  He  on  his  side  continued  to  advance 
with  similar  signals  of  distress  and  bashfulness.  At 
length,  when  they  were  but  some  steps  apart,  he  saw 
her  eyes  brim  over,  and  she  reached  out  both  her 
hands  in  eloquent  appeal. 

"Are  you  an  English  gentleman?"    she  cried. 

The  unhappy  Challoner  regarded  her  with  consterna- 
tion. He  was  the  spirit  of  fine  courtesy,  and  would 
have  blushed  to  fail  in  his  devoirs  to  any  lady;  but, 
in  the  other  scale,  he  was  a  man  averse  from  amorous 
adventures.  He  looked  east  and  west,  but  the  houses 
that  looked  down  upon  this  interview  remained  inexor- 
ably shut,  and  he  saw  himself,  though  in  the  full 
glare  of  the  day's  eye,  cut  off  from  any  human  inter- 
vention. His  looks  returned  at  last  upon  the  suppliant. 
He  remarked  with  irritation  that  she  was  charming 
both  in  face  and  figure,  elegantly  dressed  and  gloved: 
a  lady  undeniable;  the  picture  of  distress  and  inno- 
cence;   weeping  and  lost  in  the  city   of  diurnal  sleep. 

"Madam,"   he    said,    "I  protest    you    have    no    cause 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  21 

to  fear  intrusion,  and  if  I  have  appeared  to  follow 
you,  the  fault  is  in  this  street,  which  has  deceived  us 
both." 

An  unmistakable  relief  appeared  upon  the  lady's 
face.  "I  might  have  guessed  it!"  she  exclaimed. 
"Thank  you  a  thousand  times!  But  at  this  hour,  in 
this  appalling  silence,  and  among  all  these  staring  win- 
dows, I  am  lost  in  terrors — oh,  lost  in  them!"  she 
cried,  her  face  blanching  at  the  words.  "I  beg  you  to 
lend  me  your  arm,"  she  added  with  the  loveliest,  sup- 
pliant inflection.  "I  dare  not  go  alone;  my  nerve  is 
gone — I  had  a  shock,  oh,  what  a  shock!  1  beg  of  you 
to  be  my  escort." 

"My  dear  madam,"  responded  Challoner,  heavily, 
"my  arm  is  at  your  service." 

She  took  it  and  clung  to  it  for  a  moment,  strag- 
gling with  her  sobs,  and  the  next,  with  feverish  hurry, 
began  to  lead  him  in  the  direction  of  the  city.  One 
thing  was  plain,  among  so  much  that  was  obscure:  it 
was  plain  her  fears  were  genuine.  Still,  as  she  went, 
she  spied  around  as  if  for  dangers,  and  now  she  would 
shiver  like  a  person  in  a  chill  and  now  clutch  his  arms 
in  hers.  To  Challoner  her  terror  was  at  once  repug- 
nant and  infectious;  it  gained  and  mastered,  while  it 
still  offended  him,  and  he  wailed  in  spirit  and  longed 
for  release. 

"Madam,"  he  said  at  last,  "I  am,  of  course, 
charmed  to  be  of  use  to  any  lady,  but  I  confess  I 
was  bound  in  a  direction  opposite  to  that  you  follow, 
and  a  word  of  explanation — " 

"Hush!"    she  sobbed,    "not  here — not  here." 

The  blood  of  Challoner    ran    cold.      He    might    have 


22  U/orK5   of  Robert   Coui5   Steuepson 

thought  the  lady  mad,  but  his  memory  was  charged 
with  more  perilous  stuff,  and  in  view  of  the  detona- 
tion, the  smoke  and  the  flight  of  the  ill  assorted  trio, 
his  mind  was  lost  among  mysteries.  So  they  continued 
to  thread  the  maze  of  streets  in  silence  with  the  speed 
of  a  guilty  flight,  and  both  thrilling  with  incommuni- 
cable terrors.  In  time,  however,  and  above  all  by 
their  quick  pace  of  walking,  the  pair  began  to  rise  to 
firmer  spirits;  the  lady  ceased  to  peer  about  the  cor- 
ners; and  Challoner,  emboldened  by  the  resonant  tread 
and  distant  figure  of  a  constable,  returned  to  the  charge 
with  more  of  spirit  and  directness. 

"I  thought,"  said  he,  in  the  tone  of  conversation, 
"that  I  had  indistinctly  perceived  you  leaving  a  villa 
in  the  company  of  two  gentlemen." 

"Oh!"  she  said,  "you  need  not  fear  to  wound  me 
by  the  truth.  You  saw  me  flee  from  a  common  lodg- 
ing-house, and  my  companions  were  not  gentlemen.  In 
such  a  case,   the   best    of    compliments  is  to  be  frank." 

"I  thought,"  resumed  Challoner,  encouraged  as  much 
as  he  was  surprised  by  the  spirit  of  her  reply,  "to 
have  perceived,  besides,  a  certain  odor.  A  noise,  too — 
I  do  not  know  to  what  I   should  compare  it — " 

"Silence!"  she  cried.  "You  do  not  know  the  dan- 
ger you  invoke.  Wait,  only  wait;  and  as  soon  as  we 
have  left  those  streets  and  got  beyond  the  reach  of 
listeners,  all  shall  be  explained.  Meanwhile,  avoid  the 
topic.  What  a  sight  is  this  sleeping  city!"  she  ex- 
claimed; and  then,  with  a  most  thrilling  voice,  "  'Dear 
God,' "  she  quoted,  "  'the  very  houses  seem  asleep. 
And  all  that  mighty  heart  is  lying  still.'  " 

"I  perceive,   madam,"   said  he,    "you   are  a  reader." 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  23 

"I  am  more  than  that,"  she  answered,  with  a  sigh. 
"I  am  a  girl  condemned  to  thoughts  beyond  her  age; 
and  so  untoward  is  my  fate  that  this  walk  upon  the 
arm   of  a  stranger  is  like  an  interlude  of  peace." 

They  had  come  by  this  time  to  the  neighborhood  of 
the  Victoria  Station;  and  here,  at  a  street  corner,  the 
young  lady  paused,  withdrew  her  arm  from  Challoner's, 
and  looked  up  and  down  as  though  in  .pain  or  indecis- 
ion. Then,  with  a  lovely  change  of  countenance,  and 
laying  her   gloved   hand   upon   his   arm: 

"What  you  already  think  of  me,"  she  said,  "I 
tremble  to  conceive;  yet  I  must  here  condemn  myself 
still  further.  Here  I  must  leave  you,  and  here  I  be- 
seech you  to  wait  for  my  return.  Do  not  attempt  to 
follow  me  or  spy  upon  my  actions.  Suspend  yet  a 
while  your  judgment  of  a  girl  as  innocent  as  your 
own  sister;  and  do  not,  above  all,  desert  me.  Stranger 
as  you  are,  I  have  none  else  to  look  to.  You  see  me 
in  sorrow  and  great  fear;  you  are  a  gentleman,  cour- 
teous and  kind;  and  when  I  beg  for  a  few  minutes'  pa- 
tience,  I  make  sure  beforehand    you  will  not  deny  me." 

Challoner  grudgingly  promised;  and  the  young  lady, 
with  a  grateful  eye-shot,  vanished  round  the  corner. 
But  the  force  of  her  appeal  had  been  a  little  blunted; 
for  the  young  man  was  not  only  destitute  of  sisters, 
but  of  any  female  relative  nearer  than  a  great-aunt  in 
Wales.  Now  he  was  alone;  besides,  the  spell  that  he 
had  hitherto  obeyed  began  to  weaken;  he  considered 
his  behavior  with  a  sneer;  and  plucking  up  the  spirit 
of  revolt,  he  started  in  pursuit.  The  reader,  if  he  has 
ever  plied  the  fascinating  trade  of  the  noctambulist, 
will   not  be  unaware    that,   in  the  neighborhood    of    the 


24  il/or^s    of   Robert   Couis  Stevensoi) 

great  railway  centers,  certain  early  taverns  inaugurate 
the  business  of  the  day.  It  was  into  one  of  these 
that  Challoner,  coming  round  the  corner  of  the  block, 
beheld  his  charming  companion  disappear.  To  say  he 
was  surprised  were  inexact,  for  he  had  long  since  left 
that  sentiment  behind  him.  Acute  disgust  and  disap- 
pointment seized  upon  his  soul;  and  with  silent  oaths, 
he  damned  this  commonplace  enchantress.  She  had 
scarce  been  gone  a  second,  ere  the  swing-doors  re- 
opened, and  she  appeared  again  in  company  with  a 
young  man  of  mean  and  slouching  attire.  For  some 
five  or  six  exchanges  they  conversed  together  with  an 
animated  air:  then  the  fellow  shouldered  again  into  the 
tap;  and  the  young  lady,  with  something  swifter  than 
a  walk,  retraced  her  steps  toward  Challoner.  He  saw 
her  coming,  a  miracle  of  grace ;  her  ankle,  as  she  hur- 
ried, flashing  from  her  dress ;  her  movements  eloquent 
of  speed  and  youth;  and  though  he  still  entertained 
some  thoughts  of  flight,  they  grew  miserably  fainter 
as  the  distance  lessened.  Against  mere  beauty  he  was 
proof:  it  was  her  unmistakable  gentility  that  now 
robbed  him  of  the  courage  of  his  cowardice.  With  a 
proved  adventuress  he  nad  acted  strictly  on  his  right; 
with  one  who,  in  spite  of  all,  he  could  not  quite  deny 
to  be  a  lady,  he  found  himself  disarmed.  At  the  very 
corner  from  whence  he  had  spied  upon  her  interview, 
she  came  upon  him,  still  transfixed,  and—  "Ah!"  she 
cried,  with  a  bright  flush    of  color.     "Ah!     Ungenerous!" 

The  sharpness  of  the  attack  somewhat  restored  the 
Squire  of  Dames  to  the  possession  of  himself. 

"Madam,"  he  returned,  with  a  fiir  show  of  stout- 
ness,   "I   do  not  think  that    hitherto    you    can    complain 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  25 

of  any  lack  of  generosity;  I  have  suffered  myself  to 
be  led  over  a  considerable  portion  of  the  metropolis; 
and  if  I  now  request  you  to  discharge  me  of  my  office 
of  protector,  you  have  friends  at  hand  who  will  be 
glad  of   the   succession." 

She   stood   a  moment  dumb. 

"It  is  well,"  she  said.  "Go!  go,  and  may  God 
help  me!  You  have  seen  me — me,  an  innocent  girl! 
fleeing  from  a  dire  catastrophe  and  haunted  by  sinister 
men;  and  neither  pity,  curiosity,  nor  honor  move  you 
to  await  my  explanation  or  to  help  me  in  my  distress. 
Go!"  she  repeated.  "I  am  lost  indeed."  And  with  a 
passionate   gesture  she  turned   and  fled  along  the  street. 

Challoner  observed  her  retreat  and  disappear,  an  al- 
most intolerable  sense  of  guilt  contending  with  the  pro- 
found sense  that  he  was  being  gulled.  She  was  no 
sooner  gone  than  the  first  of  these  feelings  took  the 
upper  hand;  he  felt,  if  he  had  done  her  less  than  jus- 
tice, that  his  conduct  was  a  perfect  model  of  the  un- 
gracious; the  cultured  tone  of  her  voice,  her  choice  of 
language,  and  the  elegant  decorum  of  her  movements 
cried  out  aloud  against  a  harsh  construction;  and  be- 
tween penitence  and  curiosity  he  began  slowly  to  fol- 
low in  her  wake.  At  the  corner  he  had  her  once  more 
full  in  view.  Her  speed  was  failing  like  a  stricken 
bird's.  Even  as  he  looked,  she  threw  her  arm  out 
gropingly,  and  fell  and  leaned  against  the  wall.  At 
the  spectacle,  Challoner's  fortitude  gave  way.  In  a  few 
strides  he  overtook  her  and,  for  the  first  time  remov- 
ing his  hat,  assured  her  in  the  most  moving  terms  of 
his  entire  respect  and  firm  desire  to  help  her.  He 
spoke   at  first   unheeded;    but   gradually  it  appeared   that 


26  U/orK5  of  Robert  Couis  Steuensoo 

she  began  to  comprehend  his  words;  she  moved  a  lit- 
tle, and  drew  herself  upright;  and  finally,  as  with  a 
sudden  movement  of  forgiveness,  turned  on  the  young 
man  a  countenance  in  which  reproach  and  gratitude 
were  mingled.  "Ah,  madam,"  he  cried,  "use  me  as 
you  will!"  And  once  more,  but  now  with  a  great  air 
of  deference,  he  offered  her  the  conduct  of  his  arm. 
She  took  it  with  a  sigh  that  struck  him  to  the  heart; 
and  they  began  once  more  to  trace  the  deserted  streets. 
But  now  her  steps,  as  though  exhausted  by  emotion, 
began  to  linger  on  the  way;  she  leaned  the  more 
heavily  upon  his  arm;  and  he,  like  the  parent  bird, 
stooped  fondly  above  his  drooping  convoy.  Her  physi- 
cal distress  was  not  accompanied  by  any  failing  of  her 
spirits;  and  hearing  her  strike  so  soon  into  a  playful 
and  charming  vein  of  talk,  Challoner  could  not  suffi- 
ciently admire  the  elasticity  of  his  companion's  nature. 
"Let  me  forget,"  she  had  said,  "for  one  half -hour, 
let  me  forget;"  and  sure  enough,  with  the  very  word, 
her  sorrows  appeared  to  be  forgotten.  Before  every 
house  she  paused,  invented  a  name  for  the  proprietor, 
and  sketched  his  character:  here  lived  the  old  general 
whom  she  was  to  marry  on  the  fifth  of  the  next 
month,  there  was  the  mansion  of  the  rich  widow  who 
had  set  her  heart  on  Challoner;  and  though  she  still 
hung  wearily  on  the  young  man's  arm,  her  laughter 
sounded  low  and  pleasant  in  his  ears.  "Ah,"  she 
sighed,  by  way  of  commentary,  "in  such  a  life  as 
mine  I  must  seize  tight  hold  of  any  happiness  that  I 
can   find." 

"When  they  arrived,    in   this  leisurely  manner,    at    the 
head  of  Grosvenor    Place,   the  gates    of    the    park   were 


JI?e   Dynamiter  27 

opening  and  the  bedraggled  company  of  night  walkers 
were  being  at  last  admitted  into  that  paradise  of  lawns. 
Challoner  and  his  companion  followed  the  movement, 
and  walked  for  a  while  in  silence  in  that  tatterdemalion 
crowd;  but  as  one  after  another,  weary  with  the  night's 
patrolling  of  the  city  pavement,  sank  upon  the  benches 
or  wandered  into  separate  paths,  the  vast  extent  of  the 
park  had  soon  utterly  swallowed  up  the  last  of  these 
intruders;  and  the  pair  proceeded  on  their  way  alone  in 
the   grateful   quiet  of  the   morning. 

Presently  they  came  in  sight  of  a  bench,  standing 
very  open  on  a  mound  of  turf.  The  young  lady  looked 
about  her  with  relief. 

"Here,"  she  said,  "here  at  last  we  are  secure 
from  listeners.  Here,  then,  you  shall  learn  and  judge 
my  history.  I  could  not  bear  that  we  should  part,  and 
that  you  should  still  suppose  your  kindness  squandered 
upon  one   who  was  unworthy." 

Thereupon  she  sat  down  upon  the  bench,  and  mo- 
tioning Challoner  to  take  a  place  immediately  beside 
her,  began  in  the  following  words,  and  with  the  great- 
est appearance  of  enjoyment,  to  narrate  the  story  of 
her  life. 


STORY   OF   THE   DESTROYING    ANGEL 

My  father  was  a  native  of  England,  son  of  a  cadet 
of  a  great,  ancient  but  untitled  family;  and  by  some 
event,  fault,  or  misfortune  he  was  driven  to  flee  from 
the  land  of  his  birth  and  to  lay  aside  the  name  of 
his    ancestors.      He    sought  the    States;    and    instead    of 


28  U/or^s   of   Robert   Couis   Stevepsoi) 

lingering  in  effeminate  cities,  pushed  at  once  into  the 
far  west  with  an  exploring  party  of  frontiersmen.  He 
was  no  ordinary  traveler;  for  he  was  not  only  brave 
and  impetuous  by  character,  but  learned  in  many 
sciences,  and  above  all  in  botany,  which  he  particu- 
larly loved.  Thus  it  fell  that,  before  many  months, 
Fremont  himself,  the  nominal  leader  of  the  troop, 
courted   and   bowed   to  his  opinion. 

They  had  pushed,  as  I  have  said,  into  the  still  un- 
known regions  of  the  west.  For  some  time  they  fol- 
lowed the  track  of  Mormon  caravans,  guiding  them- 
selves in  that  vast  and  melancholy  desert  by  the 
skeletons  of  men  and  animals.  Then  they  inclined 
their  route  a  little  to  the  north  and,  losing  even  these 
dire  memorials,  came  into  a  country  of  forbidding  still- 
ness. I  have  often  heard  my  father  dwell  upon  the 
features  of  that  ride:  rock,  cliff,  and  barren  moor  al- 
ternated; the  streams  were  very  far  between;  and 
neither  beast  nor  bird  disturbed  the  solitude.  On  the 
fortieth  day  they  had  already  run  so  short  of  food 
that  it  was  judged  advisable  to  call  a  halt  and  scatter 
upon  all  sides  to  hunt.  A  great  fire  was  built,  that 
its  smoke  might  serve  to  rally  them;  and  each  man 
of  the  party  mounted  and  struck  off  at  a  venture  into 
the  surrounding  desert. 

My  father  rode  for  many  hours  with  a  steep  range 
of  cliffs  upon  the  one  hand,  very  black  and  horrible; 
and  upon  the  other  an  unwatered  vale  dotted  with 
bowlders  like  the  site  of  some  subverted  city.  At 
length  he  found  the  slot  of  a  great  animal,  and  from 
the  claw-marks  and  the  hair  among  the  brush,  judged 
that  he   was  on  the   track  of  a  cinnamon   bear  of  most 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  29 

unusual  size.  He  quickened  the  pace  of  his  steed,  and 
still  following  the  quarry,  came  at  last  to  the  division 
of  two  watersheds.  On  the  far  side  the  country  was 
exceedingly  intricate  and  difficult,  heaped  with  bowlders, 
.  and  dotted  here  and  there  with  a  few  pines,  which 
seemed  to  indicate  the  neighborhood  of  water.  Here, 
then,  he  picketed  his  horse,  and  relying  on  his  trusty 
rifle,    advanced   alone  into  that   wilderness. 

Presently,  in  the  great  silence  that  reigned,  he  was 
aware  of  the  sound  of  running  water  to  his  right;  and 
leaning  in  that  direction,  was  rewarded  by  a  scene  of 
natural  wonder  and  human  pathos  strangely  intermixed. 
The  stream  ran  at  the  bottom  of  a  narrow  and  wind- 
ing passage,  whose  wall-like  sides  of  rock  were  some- 
times for  miles  together  unscalable  by  man.  The  water, 
when  the  stream  was  swelled  with  rains,  must  have 
filled  it  from  side  to  side;  the  sun's  rays  only  plumbed 
it  in  the  hour  of  noon;  the  wind,  in  that  narrow  and 
damp  funnel,  blew  tempestuously.  And  yet,  in  the 
bottom  of  this  den,  immediately  below  my  father's  eyes 
as  he  leaned  over  the  margin  of  the  cliff,  a  party  of 
some  half  a  hundred  men,  women  and  children  lay 
scattered  uneasily  among  the  rocks.  They  lay  some 
upon  their  backs,  some  prone,  and  not  one  stirring; 
their  upturned  faces  seemed  all  of  an  extraordinary 
paleness  and  emaciation;  and  from  time  to  time,  above 
the  washing  of  the  stream,  a  faint  sound  of  moaning 
mounted  to  my  father's  ears. 

While  he  thus  looked,  an  old  man  got  staggering  to 
his  feet,  unwound  his  blanket,  and  laid  it,  with  great 
gentleness,  on  a  young  girl  who  sat  hard  by  propped 
against  a  rock.     The  girl  did  not   seem  to  be  conscious 


30  U/ork^  of  Robert  Couij  Steueosoo 

of  the  act;  and  the  old  man,  after  having  looked  upon 
her  with  the  most  engaging  pity,  returned  to  his  for- 
mer bed  and  lay  down  again  uncovered  on  the  turf. 
But  the  scene  had  not  passed  without  observation  even 
in  that  starving  camp.  From  the  very  outskirts  of  the 
party,  a  man  with  a  white  beard  and  seemingly  of 
venerable  years,  rose  upon  his  knees  and  came  crawl- 
ing stealthily  among  the  sleepers  toward  the  girl;  and 
judge  of  my  father's  indignation,  when  he  beheld  this 
cowardly  miscreant  strip  from  her  both  the  coverings 
and  return  with  them  to  his  original  position.  Here  he 
lay  down  for  a  while  below  his  spoils,  and,  as  my 
father  imagined,  feigned  to  be  asleep;  but  presently  he 
had  raised  himself  again  upon  one  elbow,  looked  with 
sharp  scrutiny  at  his  companions,  and  then  swiftly  car- 
ried his  hand  into  his  bosom  and  thence  to  his  mouth. 
By  the  movement  of  his  jaws  he  must  be  eating;  in 
that  camp  of  famine  he  had  reserved  a  store  of  nour- 
ishment; and  while  his  companions  lay  in  the  stupor 
of  approaching  death,   secretly  restored   his  powers. 

My  father  was  so  incensed  at  what  he  saw  that  he 
raised  his  rifle;  and  but  for  an  accident,  he  has  often 
declared,  he  would  have  shot  the  fellow  dead  upon  the 
spot.  How  different  would  then  have  been  my  history! 
But  it  was  not  to  be:  even  as  he  raised  the  barrel, 
his  eye  lighted  on  the  bear,  as  it  crawled  along  a 
ledge  some  way  below  him;  and,  ceding  to  the  hun- 
ter's instinct,  it  was  at  the  brute,  not  at  the  man, 
that  he  discharged  his  piece.  The  bear  leaped  and  fell 
into  a  pool  of  the  river;  the  canyon  re-echoed  the  re- 
port; and  in  a  moment  the  camp  was  afoot.  "With 
cries    that    were    scarce    human,    stumbling,    falling    and 


Xl?e   Dynamiter  31 

throwing  each  other  down,  these  starving  people  rushed 
upon  the  quarry;  and  before  my  father,  climbing  down 
by  the  ledge,  had  time  to  reach  the  level  of  the 
stream,  many  were  already  satisfying  their  hunger  on 
the  raw  flesh,  and  a  fire  was  being  built  by  the  more 
dainty. 

His  arrival  was  for  some  time  unremarked.  He 
stood  in  the  midst  of  these  tottering  and  clay-faced 
marionettes;  he  was  surrounded  by  their  cries;  but 
their  whole  soul  was  fixed  on  the  dead  carcass;  even 
those  who  were  too  weak  to  move,  lay,  half  turned 
over,  with  their  eyes  riveted  upon  the  bear;  and  my 
father,  seeing  himself  stand  as  though  invisible  in  the 
thick  of  this  dreary  hubbub,  was  seized  with  a  desire 
to  weep.  A  touch  upon  the  arm  restrained  him.  Turn- 
ing about  he  found  himself  face  to  face  with  the  old 
man  he  had  so  nearly  killed;  and  yet,  at  the  second 
glance,  recognized  him  for  no  old  man  at  all,  but  one 
in  the  full  strength  of  his  years,  and  of  a  strong, 
speaking  and  intellectual  countenance,  stigmatized  by 
weariness  and  famine.  He  beckoned  my  father  near 
the  cliff,  and  there,  in  the  most  private  whisper,  begged 
for  brandy.  My  father  looked  at  him  with  scorn:  "You 
remind  me,"  he  said,  "of  a  neglected  duty.  Here  is 
my  flask;  it  contains  enough,  I  trust,  to  revive  the 
women  of  your  party;  and  I  will  begin  with  her 
whom  I  saw  you  robbing  of  her  blankets."  And  with 
that,  not  heeding  his  appeals,  my  father  turned  his 
back  upon  the   egoist. 

The  girl  still  lay  reclined  against  the  rock;  she  lay 
too  far  sunk  in  the  first  stage  of  death  to  have  ob- 
served the  bustle   round  her  couch;    but  when  my  father 


32  U/or^s   of   Robert   Couis   Stevenson 

had  raised  her  head,  put  the  flask  to  her  lips,  and 
forced  or  aided  her  to  swallow  some  drops  of  the  re- 
storative, she  opened  her  languid  eyes  and  smiled  upon 
him  faintly.  Never  was  there  a  smile  of  more  touch- 
ing sweetness;  never  were  eyes  more  deeply  violet, 
more  honestly  eloquent  of  the  soul!  I  speak  with 
knowledge,  for  these  were  the  same  eyes  that  smiled 
upon  me  in  the  cradle.  From  her  who  was  to  be  his 
wife,  my  father,  still  jealously  watched  and  followed 
by  the  man  with  the  gray  beard,  carried  his  attentions 
to  all  the  women  of  the  party,  and  gave  the  last 
drainings  of  his  flask  to  those  among  the  men  who 
seemed  in  the  most  need. 

"Is  there  none  left?  not  a  drop  for  me?"  said  the 
man  with  the  beard. 

"Not  one  drop,"  replied  my  father;  "and  if  you 
find  yourself  in  want,  let  me  counsel  you  to  put  your 
hand  into  the  pocket  of  your  coat." 

"Ah!"  cried  the  other,  "you  misjudge  me.  You 
think  me  one  who  clings  to  life  for  selfish  and  com- 
monplace considerations.  But  let  me  tell  you,  that  were 
all  this  caravan  to  perish,  the  world  would  but  be 
lightened  of  a  weight.  These  are  but  human  insects, 
pullulating,  thick  as  may-flies,  in  the  slums  of  Euro- 
pean cities,  whom  I  myself  have  plucked  from  degra- 
dation and  misery,  from  the  dung-heap  and  gin-palace 
door.     And   you  compare   their  lives   with   mine!" 

"You  are  then  a  Mormon  missionary?"  asked  my 
father. 

"Oh!"  cried  the  man,  with  a  strange  smile,  "a 
Mormon  missionary  if  you  will!  I  value  not  the  title. 
Were   I  no  more  than  that,    I  could    have  died   without 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  33 

a  murmur.  But  with  my  life  as  a  physician  is  bound 
up  the  knowledge  of  great  secrets  and  the  future  of 
man.  This  it  was,  when  we  missed  the  caravan,  tried 
for  a  short  cut  and  wandered  to  this  desolate  ravine, 
that  ate  into  my  soul  and,  in  five  days,  has  changed 
my  beard  from  ebony  to  silver." 

"And  you  are  a  physician,"  mused  my  father,  look- 
ing on  his  face,  "bound  by  oath  to  succor  man  in  his 
distresses." 

"Sir,"  returned  the  Mormon,  "my  name  is  Grierson: 
you  will  hear  that  name  again;  and  you  will  then 
understand  that  my  duty  was  not  to  this  caravan  of 
paupers,   but  to  mankind  at  large." 

My  father  turned  to  the  remainder  of  the  party,  who 
were  now  sufficiently  revived  to  hear;  told  them  that 
he  would  set  off  at  once  to  bring  help  from  his  own 
party;  "and,"  he  added,  "if  you  be  again  reduced  to 
such  extremities,  look  round  you,  and  you  will  see  the 
earth  strewn  with  assistance.  Here,  for  instance,  grow- 
ing on  the  under-side  of  fissures  in  this  cliff,  you  will 
perceive  a  yellow  moss.  Trust  me,  it  is  both  edible  and 
excellent." 

"Ha!"   said   Dr.    Grierson,    "you  know   botany!" 

"Not  I  alone,"  returned  my  father,  lowering  his 
voice;  "for  see  where  these  have  been  scraped  away. 
Am   I  right?    Was  that  your  secret  store?" 

My  father's    comrades,   he    found,   when    he    returned 

to  the  signal-fire,  had  made  a  good  day's  hunting.     They 

were  thus  the  more  easily  persuaded  to  extend  assistance 

to  the  Mormon  caravan;    and   the   next  day  beheld  both 

parties    on    the    march    for    the    frontiers  of    Utah.     The 

distance  to  be  traversed  was  not  great;    but  the   nature 

3_  Vol.  XIV. 


34  U/orKs   of  Robert   Couis   Stevenson 

of  the  country  and  the  difficulty  of  procuring  food,  ex- 
tended the  time  to  nearly  three  weeks;  and  my  father 
had  thus  ample  leisure  to  know  and  appreciate  the  girl 
whom  he  had  succored.  I  will  call  my  mother  Lucy. 
Her  family  name  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  mention;  it 
is  one  you  would  know  well.  By  what  series  of  un- 
deserved calamities  this  innocent  flower  of  maidenhood, 
lovely,  refined  by  education,  ennobled  by  the  finest  taste, 
was  thus  cast  among  the  horrors  of  a  Mormon  caravan, 
I  must  not  stay  to  tell  you.  Let  it  suffice,  that  even 
in  these  untoward  circumstances,  she  found  a  heart 
worthy  of  her  own.  The  ardor  of  attachment  which 
united  my  father  and  mother  was  perhaps  partly  due 
to  the  strange  manner  of  their  meeting;  it  knew,  at 
least,  no  bounds  either  divine  or  human;  my  father, 
for  her  sake,  determined  to  renounce  his  ambitions  and 
abjure  his  faith;  and  a  week  had  not  yet  passed  upon 
the  march  before  he  had  resigned  from  his  party,  ac- 
cepted the  Mormon  doctrine,  and  received  the  promise 
of  my  mother's  hand  on  the  arrival  of  the  party  at 
Salt   Lake. 

The  marriage  took  place,  and  I  was  its  only  off- 
spring. My  father  prospered  exceedingly  in  his  affairs, 
remained  faithful  to  my  mother;  and  though  you  may 
wonder  to  hear  it,  I  believe  there  were  few  happier 
homes  in  any  country  than  that  in  which  I  saw  the 
light  and  grew  to  girlhood.  We  were,  indeed,  and  in 
spite  of  all  our  wealth,  avoided  as  heretics  and  half- 
believers  by  the  more  precise  and  pious  of  the  faithful: 
Young  himself,  that  formidable  tyrant,  was  known  to 
look  askance  upon  my  father's  riches;  but  of  this  I 
had    no    guess.      I    dwelt,    indeed,    under    the    Mormon 


Tl?e   Dynamiter  35 

system,  with  perfect  innocence  and  faith.  Some  of  our 
friends  had  many  wives;  but  such  was  the  custom;  and 
why  should  it  surprise  me  more  than  marriage  itself? 
From  time  to  time  one  of  our  rich  acquaintances  would 
disappear,  his  family  be  broken  up,  his  wives  and 
houses  shared  among  the  elders  of  the  church,  and  his 
memory  only  recalled  with  bated  breath  and  dreadful 
head-shakings.  When  I  had  been  very  still  and  my 
presence  perhaps  was  forgotten,  some  such  topic  would 
arise  among  my  elders  by  the  evening  fire;  I  would 
see  them  draw  the  closer  together  and  look  behind  them 
with  scared  eyes ;  and  I  might  gather  from  their  whis- 
perings how  some  one,  rich,  honored,  healthy  and  in 
the  prime  of  his  days,  some  one,  perhaps,  who  had 
taken  me  on  his  knees  a  week  before,  had  in  one  hour 
been  spirited  from  home  and  family  and  vanished  like 
an  image  from  a  mirror,  leaving  not  a  print  behind. 
It  was  terrible,  indeed;  but  so  was  death,  the  universal 
law.  And  even  if  the  talk  should  wax  still  bolder,  full 
of  ominous  silences  and  nods,  and  I  should  hear  named 
in  a  whisper  the  Destroying  Angels,  how  was  a  child 
to  understand  these  mysteries?  I  heard  of  a  Destroying 
Angel  as  some  more  happy  child  might  hear  in  England 
of  a  bishop  or  a  rural  dean,  with  vague  respect  and 
without  the  wish  for  further  information.  Life  any- 
where, in  society  as  in  nature,  rests  upon  dread  founda- 
tions; I  beheld  safe  roads,  a  garden  blooming  in  the 
desert,  pious  people  crowding  to  worship;  I  was  aware 
of  my  parents'  tenderness  and  all  the  harmless  luxuries  of 
my  existence;  and  why  should  I  pry  beneath  this  honest 
seeming  surface  for  the  mysteries  on  which  it  stood? 

We    dwelt    originally    in    the    city ;    but    at    an  .  early 


36  U/orKs  of  Robert  Couis  Steuenson 

date  we  moved  to  a  beautiful  house  in  a  green  dingle, 
musical  with  splashing  water,  and  surrounded  on  almost 
every  side  by  twenty  miles  of  poisonous  and  rocky 
desert.  The  city  was  thirty  miles  away;  there  was  but 
one  road,  which  went  no  further  than  my  father's  door; 
the  rest  were  bridle-tracks  impassable  in  winter;  and 
we  thus  dwelt  in  a  solitude  inconceivable  to  the  Euro- 
pean. Our  only  neighbor  was  Dr.  Grierson.  To  my 
young  eyes,  after  the  hair-oiled,  chin-bearded  elders  of 
the  city,  and  the  ill-favored  and  mentally  stunted 
women  of  their  harems,  there  was  something  agreeable 
in  the  correct  manner,  the  fine  bearing,  the  thin  white 
hair  and  beard,  and  the  piercing  looks  of  the  old  doctor. 
Yet,  though  he  was  almost  our  only  visitor,  I  never 
wholly  overcame  a  sense  of  fear  in  his  -  presence ;  and 
this  disquietude  was  rather  fed  by  the  awful  solitude 
in  which  he  lived  and  the  obscurity  that  hung  about 
his  occupations.  His  house  was  but  a  mile  or  two  from 
ours,  but  very  differently  placed.  It  stood  overlooking 
the  road  on  the  summit  of  a  steep  slope,  and  planted 
close  against  a  range  of  overhanging  bluffs.  Nature, 
you  would  say,  had  here  desired  to  imitate  the  works 
of  man;  for  the  slope  was  even  like  the  glacis  of  a 
fort,  and  the  cliffs  of  a  constant  height,  like  the  ram- 
parts of  a  city.  Not  even  spring  could  change  one 
feature  of  that  desolate  scene;  and  the  windows  looked 
down  across  a  plain,  snowy  with  alkali,  to  ranges  of 
cold  stone  sierras  on  the  north.  Twice  or  thrice  I  re- 
member passing  within  view  of  this  forbidding  residence; 
and  seeing  it  always  shuttered,  smokeless  and  deserted, 
I  remarked  to  my  parents  that  some  day  it  would 
certainly  be  robbed. 


Jlje   Dynamiter  37 

"Ah,  no,"  said  my  father,  "never  robbed;"  and  I 
observed  a   straDge  conviction  in  his  tone. 

At  last,  and  not  long  before  the  blow  fell  on  my 
unhappy  family,  I  chanced  to  see  the  doctor's  house  in 
a  new  light.  My  father  was  ill;  my  motner  confined 
to  his  bedside;  and  I  was  suffered  to  go,  under  the 
charge  of  our  driver,  to  the  lonely  house  some  twenty 
miles  away,  where  our  packages  were  left  for  us.  The 
horse  cast  a  shoe;  Dight  overtook  us  halfway  home;  and 
it  was  well  on  for  three  in  the  morning  when  the 
driver  and  I,  alone  in  a  light  wagon,  came  to  that 
part  of  the  road  which  ran  below  the  doctor's  house. 
The  moon  swam  clear;  the  cliffs  and  mountains  in  this 
strong  light  lay  utterly  deserted;  but  the  house,  from 
its  station  on  the  top  of  the  long  slope  and  close  under 
the  bluff,  not  only  shone  abroad  from  every  window 
like  a  place  of  festival,  but  from  the  great  chimney  at 
the  west  end  poured  forth  a  coil  of  smoke  so  thick  and 
so  voluminous,  that  it  hung  for  miies  along  the  wind- 
less night  air,  and  its  shadow  lay  far  abroad  in  the 
moonlight  upon  the  glittering  alkali.  As  we  continued 
to  draw  near,  besides,  a  regular  and  panting  throb  began 
to  divide  the  silence.  First  it  seemed  to  me  like  the 
beating  of  a  heart;  and  next  it  put  into  my  mind  the 
thought  of  some  giant  smothered  under  mountains  and 
still,  with  incalculable  effort,  fetching  breath.  I  had 
heard  of  the  railway,  though  I  had  not  seen  it,  and  I 
turned  to  ask  the  driver  if  this  resembled  it.  But  some 
look  in  his  eye,  some  pallor,  whether  of  fear  or  moon- 
light on  his  face,  caused  the  words  to  die  upon  my 
lips.  We  continued,  therefore,  to  advance  in  silence,  till 
we   were  close  below  the  lighted  house;    when  suddenly, 


38  U/orK5   of   Robert   Couis   Steuepsoo 

without  one  premonitory  rustle,  there  burst  forth  a  re- 
port of  such  a  bigness  that  it  shook  the  earth  and  set 
the  echoes  of  the  mountains  thundering  from  cliff  to 
cliff.  A  pillar  of  amber  flame  leaped  from  the  chimney- 
top  and  fell  in  multitudes  of  sparks;  and  at  the  same 
time  the  lights  in  the  windows  turned  for  one  instant 
ruby  red  and  then  expired.  The  driver  had  checked  his 
horse  instinctively,  aud  the  echoes  were  still  rumbling 
further  off  among  the  mountains,  when  there  broke 
from  the  now  darkened  interior  a  series  of  yells — whether 
of  man  or  woman  it  was  impossible  to  guess — the  door 
flew  open,  and  there  ran  forth  into  the  moonlight,  at 
the  top  of  the  long  slope,  a  figure  clad  in  white, 
which  began  to  dance  and  leap  and  throw  itself  down, 
and  roll  as  if  in  agony,  before  the  house.  I  could  no 
more  restrain  my  cries;  the  driver  laid  his  lash  about 
the  horse's  flank,  and  we  fled  up  the  rough  track  at 
the  peril  of  our  lives;  and  did  not  draw  rein  till, 
turning  the  corner  of  the  mountain,  we  beheld  my 
father's  ranch  and  deep,  green  groves  and  gardens, 
sleeping  in  the  tranquil    light. 

This  was  the  one  adventure  of  my  life,  until  my 
father  had  climbed  to  the  very  topmost  point  of  material 
prosperity,  and  I  myself  had  reached  the  age  of  seven- 
teen. I  was  still  innocent  and  merry  like  a  child; 
tended  my  garden  or  ran  upon  the  hills  in  glad  sim- 
plicity; gave  not  a  thought  to  coquetry  or  to  material 
cares;  and  if  my  eye  rested  on  my  own  image  in  a 
mirror  or  some  sylvan  spring,  it  was  to  seek  and 
recognize  the  features  of  my  parents.  But  the  fears 
which  had  long  pressed  on  others  were  now  to  be  laid 
on  my  youth.     I  had  thrown  myself,  one  sultry,   cloudy 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  39 

afternoon,  on  a  divan;  the  windows  stood  open  on  the 
veranda,  where  my  mother  sat  with  her  embroidery; 
and  when  my  father  joined  her  from  the  garden,  their 
conversation,  clearly  audible  to  me,  was  of  so  startling 
a  nature  that  it  held  me  enthralled  where   I  lay. 

"The  blow  has  come,"  my  father  said,  after  a  long 
pause. 

I  could  hear  my  mother  start  and  turn,  but  in  words 
she  made  no    reply. 

"Yes,"  continued  my  father,  "I  have  received  to- 
day a  list  of  all  that  I  possess;  of  all,  I  say;  of  what 
I  have  lent  privately  to  men  whose  lips  are  sealed 
with  terror;  of  what  I  have  buried  with  my  own  hand 
on  the  bare  mountain,  when  there  was  not  a  bird  in 
heaven.  Does  the  air,  then,  carry  secrets?  Are  the 
hills  of  glass?  Do  the  stones  we  tread  upon  preserve 
the  footprints  to  betray  us?  Oh,  Lucy,  Lucy,  that  we 
should  have  come  to  such  a  country!" 

"But  this,"  returned  my  mother,  "is  no  very  new 
or  very  threatening  event.  You  are  accused  of  some 
concealment.  You  will  pay  more  taxes  in  the  future, 
and  be  mulcted  in  a  fine.  It  is  disquieting,  indeed,  to 
find  our  acts  so  spied  upon,  and  the  most  private 
known.  But  is  this  new?  Have  we  not  long  feared 
and  suspected  every   blade   of  grass?" 

"Ay,  and  our  shadows!"  cried  my  father.  "But  all 
this  is  nothing.  Here  is  the  letter  that  accompanied 
the  list." 

I  heard  my  mother  turn  the  pages;  and  she  was 
some  time  silent. 

"I  see,"  she  said  at  last;  and  then  with  the  tone 
of    one    reading:    "  'From    a    believer    so  largely  blessed 


40  U/orl^s   of  Robert   Couis   Stevensop 

by  Providence  with  this  world's  goods,'  "  she  continued, 
"  'the  Church  awaits  in  confidence  some  signal  mark  of 
piety.'  There  lies  the  sting.  Am  I  not  right?  These 
are  the  words  you  fear?" 

"These  are  the  words,"  replied  my  father.  "Lucy, 
you  remember  Priestley?  Two  days  before  he  disap- 
peared, he  carried  me  to  the  summit  of  an  isolated 
butte;  we  could  see  around  us  for  ten  miles;  sure,  if 
in  any  quarter  of  this  land  a  man  were  safe  from 
spies,  it  were  in  such  a  station;  but  it  was  in  the 
very  ague-fit  of  terror  that  he  told  me,  and  that  I 
heard,  his  story.  He  had  received  a  letter  such  as 
this;  and  he  submitted  to  my  approval  an  answer  in 
which  he  offered  to  resign  a  third  of  his  possessions. 
I  conjured  him,  as  he  valued  his  life,  to  raise  his 
offering;  and,  before  we  parted,  he  had  doubled  the 
amount.  Well,  two  days  later  he  was  gone — gone  from 
the  chief  street  of  the  city  in  the  hour  of  noon — and 
gone  forever.  O  God  !  "  cried  my  father,  "by  what 
art  do  they  thus  spirit  out  of  life  the  solid  body?  What 
death  do  they  command  that  leaves  no  traces?  that 
this  material  structure,  these  strong  arms,  this  skeleton 
that  can  resist  the  grave  for  centuries,  should  be  thus 
reft  in  a  moment  from  the  world  of  sense?  A  horror 
dwells  in  that  thought    more  awful    than    mere  death." 

"Is  there  no  hope  in    Grierson?"   asked    my  mother. 

"Dismiss  the  thought,"  replied  my  father.  "He 
now  knows  all  that  I  can  teach,  and  will  do  naught  to 
save  me.  His  power,  besides,  is  small,  his  own  danger 
not  improbably  more  imminent  than  mine;  for  he,  too, 
lives  apart ;  he  leaves  his  wives  neglected  and  unwatched ; 
he    is    openly  cited    for    an    unbeliever;     and    unless  he 


Tl?e   Dynamiter  41 

buys  security  at  a  more  awful  price — but  no;  I  will 
not  believe  it;  I  have  no  love  for  him,  but  I  will  not 
believe  it." 

"Believe  what?"  asks  my  mother;  and  then,  with  a 
change  of  note,  "But  oh,  what  matters  it?"  she  cried. 
"Abimelech,  there  is  but  one  way  open:    we  must  fly!" 

"It  is  in  vain,"  returned  my  father.  "I  should  but 
involve  you  in  my  fate.  To  leave  this  land  is  hope- 
less: we  are  closed  in  it  as  men  are  closed  in  life; 
and  there  is  no  issue   but  the  grave." 

"We  can  but  die  then,"  replied  my  mother.  "Let 
us  at  least  die  together.  Let  not  Asenath*  and  myself 
survive  you.  Think  to  what  a  fate  we  should  be 
doomed!" 

My  father  was  unable  to  resist  her  tender  violence; 
and  though  I  could  see  he  nourished  not  one  spark  of 
hope,  he  consented  to  desert  his  whole  estate,  beyond 
some  hundreds  of  dollars  that  he  had  by  him  at  the 
moment,  and  to  flee  that  night,  which  promised  to  be 
dark  and  cloudy.  As  soon  as  the  servants  were  asleep, 
he  was  to  load  two  mules  with  provisions;  two  others 
were  to  carry  my  mother  and  myself;  and,  striking 
through  the  mountains  by  an  unfrequented  trail,  we 
were  to  make  a  fair  stroke  for  liberty  and  life.  As 
soon  as  they  had  thus  decided,  I  showed  myself  at  the 
window,  and,  owning  that  I  had  heard  all,  assured 
them  that  they  could  rely  on  my  prudence  and  devo- 
tion. I  had  no  fear,  indeed,  but  to  show  myself  un- 
worthy of  my  birth;  I  held  my  life  in  my  hand  with- 
out   alarm;     and    when    my    father,    weeping    upon    my 

*In  this  name  the  accent  falls  upon  the  e;  the  s  is  sibilant. 


42  U/orl^s   of   Robert    Couis    Stevenson 

neck,  had  blessed  Heaven  for  the  courage  of  his  child, 
it  was  with  a  sentiment  of  pride  and  some  of  the  joy 
that  warriors  take  in  war,  that  I  began  to  look  for- 
ward to   the  perils  of  our  flight. 

Before  midnight,  under  an  obscure  and  starless  heaven, 
we  had  left  far  behind  us  the  plantations  of  the  valley, 
and  were  mountiDg  a  certain  canyon  in  the  hills,  nar- 
row, encumbered  with  great  rocks,  and  echoing  with 
the  roar  of  a  tumultuous  torrent.  Cascade  after  cascade 
thundered  and  hung  up  its  flag  of  whiteness  in  the 
night,  or  fanned  our  faces  with  the  wet  wind  of  its 
descent.  The  trail  was  breakneck,  and  led  to  famine- 
guarded  deserts;  it  had  been  long  since  deserted  for 
more  practicable  routes;  and  it  was  now  a  part  of  the 
world  untrod  from  year  to  year  by  human  footing. 
Judge  of  our  dismay,  when  turning  suddenly  an  angle 
of  the  cliffs,  we  found  a  bright  bonfire  blazing  by 
itself  under  an  impending  rock;  and  on  the  face  of  the 
rock,  drawn  very  rudely  with  charred  wood,  the  great 
Open  Eye  which  is  the  emblem  of  the  Mormon  faith. 
We  looked  upon  each  other  in  the  firelight;  my  mother 
broke  into  a  passion  of  tears;  but  not  a  word  was 
said.  The  mules  were  turned  about;  and  leaving  that 
great  eye  to  guard  the  lonely  canyon,  we  retraced  our 
steps  in  silence.  Day  had  not  yet  broken  ere  we  were 
once  more  at  home,   condemned  beyond  reprieve. 

"What  answer  my  father  sent  I  was  not  told;  but 
two  days  later,  a  little  before  sundown,  I  saw  a  plain, 
honest-looking  man  ride  slowly  up  the  road  in  a  great 
pother  of  dust.  He  was  clad  in  homespun,  with  a  broad 
straw  hat ;  wore  a  patriarchal  beard ;  and  had  an  air 
of    a  simple    rustic    farmer,   that  was,   in  my  eyes,  very 


Tbe   Dynamiter  43 

reassuring.  He  was,  indeed,  a  very  honest  man  and 
pious  Mormon;  with  no  liking  for  his  errand,  though 
neither  he  nor  any  one  in  Utah  dared  to  disobey;  and 
it  was  with  every  mark  of  diffidence  that  he  had  him- 
self announced  as  Mr.  Aspinwall,  and  entered  the  room 
where  our  unhappy  family  was  gathered.  My  mother 
and  me  he  awkwardly  enough  dismissed;  and  as  soon 
as  he  was  alone  with  my  father  laid  before  him  a  blank 
signature  of  President  Young's,  and  offered  him  a  choice 
of  services:  either  to  set  out  as  a  missionary  to  the 
tribes  about  the  White  Sea,  or  to  join  the  next  day, 
with  a  party  of  Destroying  Angels,  in  the  massacre  of 
sixty  German  immigrants.  The  last,  of  course,  my 
father  could  not  entertain,  and  the  first  he  regarded  as 
a  pretext:  even  if  he  could  consent  to  leave  his  wife 
defenseless,  and  to  collect  fresh  victims  for  the  tyranny 
under  which  he  was  himself  oppressed,  he  felt  sure  he 
would  never  be  suffered  to  return.  He  refused  both; 
and.  Aspinwall,  be  it  said,  betrayed  sincere  emotion,  part 
religious,  at  the  spectacle  of  such  disobedience,  but  part 
human,  in  pity  for  my  father  and  his  family.  He  be- 
sought him  to  reconsider  his  decision;  and  at  length, 
finding  he  could  not  prevail,  gave  him  till  the  moon 
rose  to  settle  his  affairs,  and  say  farewell  to  wife  and 
daughter.  "For,"  said  he,  "then,  at  the  latest,  you 
must  ride  with  me." 

I  dare  not  dwell  upon  the  hours  that  followed:  they 
fled  all  too  fast;  and  presently  the  moon  out-topped 
the  eastern  range,  and  my  father  and  Mr.  Aspinwall 
set  forth,  side  by  side,  on  their  nocturnal  journey.  My 
mother,  though  still  bearing  a  heroic  countenance,  had 
hastened  to  shut  herself  in  her  apartment,  thenceforward 


44  U/orKs   of   Robert   Coufs   Stevensop 

solitary;  and  I,  alone  in  the  dark  house,  and  consumed 
by  grief  and  apprehension,  made  haste  to  saddle  my 
Indian  pony,  to  ride  up  to  the  corner  of  the  mountain, 
and  to  enjoy  one  farewell  sight  of  my  departing  father. 
The  two  men  had  set  forth  at  a  deliberate  pace;  nor 
was  I  long  behind  them,  when  I  reached  the  point  of 
view.  I  was  the  more  amazed  to  see  no  moving  crea- 
ture in  the  landscape.  The  moon,  as  the  saying  is, 
shone  bright  as  day;  and  nowhere,  under  the  whole 
arch  of  night,  was  there  a  growing  tree,  a  bush,  a  farm, 
a  patch  of  tillage,  or  any  evidence  of  man,  but  one. 
From  the  corner  where  I  stood,  a  rugged  bastion  of 
the  line  of  bluffs  concealed  the  doctor's  house;  and 
across  the  top  of  that  projection  the  soft  night  wind 
carried  and  unwound  about  the  hills  a  coil  of  sable 
smoke.  What  fuel  could  produce  a  vapor  so  sluggish 
to  dissipate  in  that  dry  air,  or  what  furnace  pour  it 
forth  so  copiously,  I  was  unable  to  conceive;  but  I 
knew  well  enough  that  it  came  from  the  doctor's 
chimney;  I  saw  well  enough  that  my  father  had 
already  disappeared;  and  in  despite  of  reason,  I  con- 
nected in  my  mind  the  loss  of  that  dear  protector  with 
the  ribbon  of  foul  smoke  that  trailed  along  the  moun- 
tains. 

Days  passed,  and  still  my  mother  and  I  waited  in 
vain  for  news;  a  week  went  by,  a  second  followed,  but 
we  heard  no  word  of  the  father  and  husband.  As 
smoke  dissipates,  as  the  image  glides  from  the  mirror, 
so  in  the  ten  or  twenty  minutes  that  I  had  spent  in 
getting  my  horse  and  following  upon  his  trail,  had  that 
strong  and  brave  man  vanished  out  of  life.  Hope,  if 
any    hope    we    had,    fled    with    every    hour;    the    worst 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  45 

was  now  certain  for  my  father,  the  worst  was  to  be 
dreaded  for  his  defenseless  family.  "Without  weakness, 
with  a  desperate  calm  at  which  I  marvel  when  I  look 
back  upon  it,  the  widow  and  the  orphan  awaited  the 
event.  On  the  last  day  of  the  third  week  we  rose  in 
the  morning  to  find  ourselves  alone  in  the  house,  alone, 
so  far  as  we  searched,  on  the  estate;  all  our  attend- 
ants, with  one  accord,  had  fled;  and  as  we  knew  them 
to  be  gratefully  devoted,  we  drew  the  darkest  intima- 
tions from  their  flight.  The  day  passed,  indeed,  without 
event;  but  in  the  fall  of  the  evening  we  were  called 
at  last  into  the  veranda  by  the  approaching  clink  of 
horse's  hoofs.     , 

The  doctor,  mounted  on  an  Indian  pony,  rode  into 
the  garden,  dismounted,  and  saluted  us.  He  seemed 
much  more  bent,  and  his  hair  more  silvery  than  ever; 
but  his  demeanor  was  composed,  serious,  and  not  un- 
kind. 

"Madam,"  said  he,  "I  am  come  upon  a  weighty 
errand ;  and  I  would  have  you  recognize  it  as  an  effect 
of  kindness  in  the  President,  that  he  should  send  as 
his  embassador  your  only  neighbor  and  your  husband's 
oldest  friend  in  Utah." 

"Sir,"  said  my  mother,  "I  have  but  one  concern, 
one  thought.  You  know  well  what  it.  is.  Speak:  my 
husband?" 

"Madam,"  returned  the  doctor,  taking  a  chair  on 
the  veranda,  "if  you  were  a  silly  child,  my  position 
would  now  be  painfully  embarrassing.  You  are,  on  the 
other  hand,  a  woman  of  great  intelligence  and  forti- 
tude; you  have,  by  my  forethought,  been  allowed  three 
weeks  to  draw  your  own  conclusions  and   to  accept  the 


46  U/or^s    of   Robert    Couis    SteuepsoQ 

inevitable.  Further  words  from  me  are,  I  conceive, 
superfluous." 

My  mother  was  as  pale  as  death,  and  trembled  like 
a  reed;  I  gave  her  my  hand,  and  she  kept  it  in  the 
folds  of  her  dress  and  wrung  it  till  I  could  have  cried 
aloud.  "Then,  sir,"  said  she  at  last,  "you  speak  to 
deaf  ears.  If  this  be  indeed  so,  what  have  I  to  do 
with  errands  ?  what  do  I  ask  of  Heaven  but  to 
die?" 

"Come,"  said  the  doctor,  "command  yourself.  I  bid 
you  dismiss  all  thoughts  of  your  late  husband,  and 
bring  a  clear  mind  to  bear  upon  your  own  future  and 
the  fate  of  that  young   girl." 

"You  bid  me  dismiss — "  began  my  mother.  "Then 
you  know!"    she  cried. 

"I  know,"   replied  the   doctor. 

"You  know?"  broke  out  the  poor  woman.  "Then 
it  was  you  who  did  the  deed!  I  tear  off  the  mask, 
and  with  dread  and  loathing  see  you  as  you  are — you, 
whom  the  poor  fugitive  beholds  in  nightmares,  and 
awakes   raving — you,    the   Destroying  Angel!" 

"Well,  madam,  and  what  then?"  returned  the  doc- 
tor. "Have  not  my  fate  and  yours  been  similar?  Are 
we  not  both  immured  in  this  strong  prison  of  Utah? 
Have  you  not  tried  to  flee,  and  did  not  the  Open  Eye 
confront  you  in  the  canyon?  "Who  can  escape  the  watch 
of  that  unsleeping  eye  of  Utah?  Not  I,  at  least.  Hor- 
rible tasks  have,  indeed,  been  laid  upon  me;  and  the 
most  ungrateful  was  the  last;  but  had  I  refused  my 
offices,  would  that  have  spared  your  husband?  You 
know  well  it  would  not.  I,  too,  had  perished  along 
with   him;    nor  would   I   have   been   able   to  alleviate  his 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  47 

last    moments,    nor   could    I    to-day  have    stood    between 
his  family   and   the   hand   of   Brigham   Young." 

"Ah!"  cried  I,  "and  could  you  purchase  life  by 
such  concessions?" 

"Young  lady,"  answered  the  doctor,  "I  both  could 
and  did;  and  you  will  live  to  thank  me  for  that  base- 
ness. You  had  a  spirit,  Asenath,  that  it  pleases  me 
to  recognize.  But  we  waste  time.  Mr.  Fonblanque's 
estate  reverts,  as  you  doubtless  imagine,  to  the  church; 
but  some  part  of  it  has  been  reserved  for  him  who  is 
to  marry  the  family;  and  that  person,  I  should  per- 
haps tell  you   without    delay,   is  no  other  than  myself." 

At  this  odious  proposal  my  mother  and  I  cried  out 
aloud,    and  clung  together  like  lost  souls. 

"It  is  as  I  supposed,"  resumed  the  doctor,  with  the 
same  measured  utterance.  "You  recoil  from  this  ar- 
rangement. Do  you  expect  me  to  convince  you?  You 
know  very  well  that  I  have  never  held  the  Mormon 
view  of  women.  Absorbed  in  the  most  arduous  studies, 
I  have  left  the  slatterns  whom  they  call  my  wives  to 
scratch  and  quarrel  among  themselves;  of  me,  they 
have  had  nothing  but  my  purse;  such  was  not  the 
union  I  desired,  even  if  I  had  the  leisure  to  pursue 
it.  No:  you  need  not,  madam,  and  my  old  friend — " 
and  here  the  doctor  rose  and  bowed  with  something  of 
gallantry — "you  need  not  apprehend  my  importunities. 
On  the  contrary,  I  am  rejoiced  to  read  in  you  a  Ro 
man  spirit;  and  if  I  am  obliged  to  bid  you  follow  me 
at  once,  and  that  in  the  name,  not  of  my  wish,  but 
of  my  orders,  I  hope  it  will  be  found  that  we  are  of 
a  common   mind." 

So,    bidding  us  dress    for    the    road,    he  took   a  lamp 


48  U/orKs   of  Robert   Couis   Steuenson 

(for  the  night  had  now  fallen)  and  set  off  to  the  stable 
to  prepare  our  horses. 

"What  does  it  mean? — what  will  become  of  us?"  I 
cried. 

"Not  that,  at  least,"  replied  my  mother,  shudder- 
ing. "So  far  we  can  trust  him.  I  seem  to  read  among 
his  words  a  certain  tragic  promise.  Asenath,  if  I  leave 
you,  if  I  die,  you  will  not  forget  your  miserable  parents?" 

Thereupon  we  fell  to  cross-purposes:  I  beseeching 
her  to  explain  her  words;  she  putting  me  by,  and 
continuing  to  recommend  the  doctor  for  a  friend.  "The 
doctor!"  I  cried  at  last;  "the  man  who  killed  my 
father?" 

"Nay,"  said  she,  "let  us  be  just.  I  do  believe,  be- 
fore Heaven,  he  played  the  friendliest  part.  And  he 
alone,  Asenath,  can  protect  you  in  this  land  of  death." 

At  this  the  doctor  returned,  leading  our  two  horses; 
and  when  we  were  all  in  the  saddle,  h6  bade  me  ride 
on  before,  as  he  had  matter  to  discuss  with  Mrs.  Fon- 
blanque.  They  came  at  a  foot's  pace,  eagerly  convers- 
ing iD  a  whisper;  and  presently  after  the  moon  rose 
and  showed  them  looking  eagerly  into  each  other's 
faces  as  they  went,  my  mother  laying  her  hand  upon 
the  doctor's  arm,  and  the  doctor  himself,  against  his 
usual  custom,  making  vigorous  gestures  of  protest  or 
asseveration. 

At  the  foot  of  the  track  which  ascended  the  talus 
of  the  mountain  to  his  door,  the  doctor  overtook  me 
at  a  trot. 

"Here,"  he  said,  "we  shall  dismount;  and  as  your 
mother  prefers  to  be  alone,  you  and  I  shall  walk  to- 
gether to  my  house." 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  49 

"Shall   I   see  her  again  ?"    I  asked. 

"I  give  you  my  word,"  he  said,  and  helped  me  to 
alight.  "We  leave  the  horses  here,"  he  added.  "There 
are  no  thieves  in  this  stone  wilderness." 

The  track  mounted  gradually,  keeping  the  house  in 
view.  The  windows  were  once  more  bright;  the  chim- 
ney once  more  vomited  smoke;  but  the  most  absolute 
silence  reigned,  and,  but  for  the  figure  of  my  mother 
very  slowly  following  in  our  wake,  I  felt  convinced 
that  there  was  no  human  soul  within  a  range  of  miles. 
At  the  thought,  I  looked  upon  the  doctor,  gravely 
walking  by  my  side,  with  bowed  shoulders,  and  then 
once  more  at  his  house,  lighted  up  and  pouring  smoke 
like  some  industrious  factory.  And  then  my  curiosity 
broke  forth.  "In  Heaven's  name,"  I  cried,  "what  do 
you  make  in   this  inhuman   desert?" 

He  looked  at  me  with  a  peculiar  smile,  and  an- 
swered  with  an  evasion: 

"This  is  not  the  first  time,"  said  he,  "that  you 
have  seen  my  furnaces  alight.  One  morning,  in  the 
small  hours,  I  saw  you  driving  past;  a  delicate  ex- 
periment miscarried;  and  I  cannot  acquit  myself  of 
having  startled  either  your  driver  or  the  horse  that 
drew  you." 

"What!"  cried  I,  beholding  again  in  fancy  the  an- 
tics  cf   the  figure,    "could  that   be   you?" 

"It  was  I,"  he  replied;  "but  do  not  fancy  that  I 
was  mad.     I  was  in  agony.     I  had  been  scalded  cruelly." 

We    were    now    near    the    house,    which,    unlike    the 

ordinary    houses    of     the     country,    was    built     of    hewn 

stone    and  very  solid.      Stone,    too,    was    its    foundation, 

stone    its    background.      Not  a  blade    of    grass   sprouted 

4-  Vol.  XIV. 


50  U/ork^s   of  Robert   Couis   Steueijsorj 

among  the  broken  mineral  about  the  walls,  not  a  flower 
adorned  the  windows.  Over  the  door,  by  way  of  sole 
adornment,  the  Mormon  Eye  was  rudely  sculptured;  I 
had  been  brought  up  to  view  that  emblem  from  my 
childhood;  but  since  the  night  of  our  escape  it  had 
acquired  a  new  significance,  and  set  me  shrinking.  The 
smoke  rolled  voluminously  from  the  chimney  top,  its 
edges  ruddy  with  the  fire;  and  from  the  far  corner  of 
the  building,  near  the  ground,  angry  puffs  of  steam 
shone  snow-white  in  the  moon  and   vanished. 

The  doctor  opened  the  door  and  paused  upon  the 
threshold.  "You  ask  me  what  I  make  here,"  he  ob- 
served: "Two  things:  Life  and  Death."  And  he 
motioned   me  to  enter. 

"I  shall  await  my   mother,"   said  I. 

"Child,"  he  replied,  "look  at  me;  am  I  not  old 
and  broken?  Of  us  two,  which  is  the  stronger,  the 
young  maiden  or   the   withered   man?" 

I  bowed,  and  passing  by  him,  entered  a  vestibule 
or  kitchen,  lighted  by  a  good  fire  and  a  shaded  read- 
ing-lamp. It  was  furnished  only  with  a  dresser,  a  rude 
table,  and  some  wooden  benches;  and  on  one  of  these 
the  doctor  motioned  me  to  take  a  seat;  and  passing  by 
another  door  into  the  interior  of  the  house,  he  left  me 
to  myself.  Presently  I  heard  the  jar  of  iron  from  the 
far  end  of  the  building;  and  this  was  followed  by 
the  same  throbbing  noise  that  had  startled  me  in  the 
valley,  but  now  so  near  at  hand  as  to  be  menacing 
by  loudness,  and  even  to  shake  the  house  with  every 
recurrence  of  the  stroke.  I  had  scarce  time  to  master 
my  alarm  when  the  doctor  returned,  and  almost  in  the 
same  moment  my  mother   appeared    upon  the   threshold. 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  51 

But  how  am  I  to  describe  to  you  the  peace  and  rav- 
ishment of  that  face?  Years  seemed  to  have  passed 
over  her  head  during  that  brief  ride,  and  left  her 
younger  and  fairer;  her  eyes  shone,  her  smile  went  to 
my  heart;  she  seemed  no  more  a  woman,  but  the 
angel  of  ecstatic  tenderness.  I  ran  to  her  in  a  kind 
of  terror;  but  she  shrank  a  little  back  and  laid  her 
finger  on  her  lips,  with  something  arch  and  yet  un- 
earthly. To  the  doctor,  on  the  contrary,  she  reached 
out  her  hand  as  to  a  friend  and  helper;  and  so 
straDge   was  the   scene   that  I   forgot  to  be  offended. 

"Lucy,"  said  the  doctor,  "all  is  prepared.  Will  you 
go  alone,   or  shall  your  daughter  follow  us?" 

"Let  Asenath  come,"  she  answered,  "dear  Asenath! 
At  this  hour,  when  I  am  purified  of  fear  and  sorrow, 
and  already  survive  myself  and  my  affections,  it  is  for 
your  sake,  and  not  for  mine,  that  I  desire  her  pres- 
ence. "Were  she  shut  out,  dear  friend,  it  is  to  be 
feared  she  might   misjudge  your  kindness." 

"Mother,"    I    cried   wildly,    "mother,    what    is    this?" 

But  my  mother,  with  her  radiant  smile,  said  only 
"Hush!"  as  though  I  were  a  child  again,  and  tossing 
in  some  fever-fit;  and  the  doctor  bade  me  be  silent 
and  trouble  her  no  more.  "You  have  made  a  choice," 
he  continued,  addressing  my  mother,  "that  has  often 
strangely  tempted  me.  The  two  extremes:  all,  or  else 
nothing;  never,  or  this  very  hour  upon  the  clock— these 
have  been  my  incongruous  desires.  But  to  accept  the 
middle  term,  to  be  content  with  a  half-gift,  to  flicker 
a  while  and  to  burn  out — never  for  an  hour,  never 
since  I  was  born,  has  satisfied  the  appetite  of  my  am- 
bition."    He    looked    upon   my  mother    fixedly,    much  of 


52  U/orKs   of  Robert   Couis   Steuenson 

admiration  and  some  touch  of  envy  in  his  eyes;  then, 
with  a  profound  sigh,  he  led  the  way  into  the  inner 
room. 

It  was  very  long.  From  end  to  end  it  was  lighted 
up  by  many  lamps,  which  by  the  changeful  color  of 
their  light,  and  by  the  incessant  snapping  sounds  with 
which  they  burned,  I  have  since  divined  to  be  electric. 
At  the  extreme  end  an  open  door  gave  us  a  glimpse 
into  what  must  have  been  a  lean-to  shed  beside  the 
chimney:  and  this,  in  strong  contrast  to  the  room,  was 
painted  with  a  red  reverberation,  as  from  furnace-doors. 
The  walls  were  lined  with  books  and  glazed  cases,  the 
tables  crowded  with  the  implements  'of  chemical  re- 
search; great  glass  accumulators  glittered  in  the  light; 
and  through  a  hole  in  the  gable  near  the  shed  door 
a  heavy  driving  belt  entered  the  apartment  and  ran 
overhead  upon  steel  pulleys,  with  clumsy  activity  and 
many  ghostly  and  fluttering  sounds.  In  one  corner  I  per- 
ceived a  chair  resting  upon  crystal  feet,  and  curiously 
wreathed  with  wire.  To  this  my  mother  advanced 
with  a  decisive  swiftness. 

"Is  this  it?"     she  asked. 

The  doctor  bowed   in   silence. 

"Asenath,"  said  my  mother,  "in  this  sad  end  of 
my  life  I  have  found  one  helper.  Look  upon  him :  it 
is  Dr.  Grierson.  Be  not,  oh,  my  daughter,  be  not  un- 
grateful  to   that  friend!" 

She  sat  upon  the  chair,  and  took  in  her  hands  the 
globes  that  terminated   the  arms. 

"Am  I  right?"  she  asked,  and  locked  upon  the 
doctor  with  such  a  radiancy  of  face  that  I  trembled  for 
her  reason.     Once  more  the  doctor  bowed,  but  this  time 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  53 

leaning  hard  against  the  wall.  He  must  have  touched 
a  spring.  The  least  shock  agitated  my  mother  where 
she  sat;  the  least  passing  jar  appeared  to  cross  her 
features;  and  she  sank  back  in  the  chair  like  one  re- 
signed to  weariness.  I  was  at  her  knees  that  moment; 
but  her  hands  fell  loosely  in  my  grasp;  her  face,  still 
beatified  with  the  same  touching  smile,  sank  forward  on 
her  bosom;    her  spirit  had   forever  fled. 

I  do  not  know  how  long  may  have  elapsed  before, 
raising  for  a  moment  my  tearful  face,  I  met  the  doc- 
tor's eyes.  They  rested  upon  mine  with  such  a  depth 
of  scrutiny,  pity,  and  interest,  that  even  from  ihe 
freshness    of    my    sorrow   I  was    startled    into    attention. 

"Enough,"  he  said,  "to  lamentation.  Your  mother 
went  to  death  as  to  a  bridal,  dying  where  her  husband 
died.  It  is  time,  Asenath,  to  think  of  the  survivors. 
Follow  me  to  the  next  room." 

I  followed  him,  like  a  person  in  a  dream;  he  made 
me  sit  by  the  fire,  he  gave  me  wine  to  drink;  and 
then,  pacing  the  stone  floor,  he  thus  began  to  address 
me: 

"You  are  now,  my  child,  alone  in  the  world,  and  un- 
der the  immodiate  watch  of  Brigham  Young.  It  would 
be  your  lot,  in  ordinary  circumstances,  to  become  the 
fiftieth  bride  of  some  ignoble  elder,  or  by  particular 
fortune,  as  fortune  is  counted  in  this  land,  to  find 
favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  president  himself.  Such  a  fate 
for  a  girl  like  you  were  worse  than  death;  better  to 
die  as  your  mother  died  than  to  sink  daily  deeper  in 
the  mire  of  this  pit  of  woman's  degradation.  But  is 
escape  conceivable?  Your  father  tried;  and  you  beheld 
yourself  with  what    security  his    jailers   acted,   and   how 


54  U/orK8    of   Robert    Couis   Stevepson 

a  dumb  drawing  on  a  rock  was  counted  a  sufficient 
sentry  over  the  avenues  of  freedom.  Where  your 
father  failed,  will  you  be  wiser  or  more  fortunate?  or 
are  you,   too,   helpless  in  the  toils?" 

I  had  followed  his  words  with  changing  emotion, 
but  now   I  believed   I   understood. 

"I  see,"  I  cried;  ''you  judge  me  rightly.  I  must 
follow  where  my  parents  led;  and  oh!  I  am  not  only 
willing,    I  am  eager!" 

"No,"  replied  the  doctor,  "not  death  for  you.  The 
flawed  vessel  we  may  break,  but  not  the  perfect.  No, 
your  mother  cherished  a  different  hope,  and  so  do  I. 
I  see,"  he  cried,  "the  girl  develop  to  the  completed 
woman,  the  plan  reach  fulfillment,  the  promise — ay, 
outdone!  I  could  not  bear  to  arrest  so  lively,  so  comely 
a  process.  It  was  your  mother's  thought,"  he  added, 
with  a  change  of  tone,  "that  I  should  marry  you  my- 
self." I  fear  I  must  have  shown  a  perfect  horror  of 
aversion  from  this  fate,  for  he  made  haste  to  quiet 
me.  "Reassure  yourself,  Asenath,"  he  resumed.  "Old 
as  I  am,  I  have  not  forgotten  the  tumultuous  fancies 
of  youth.  I  have  passed  my  days,  indeed,  in  labora- 
tories; but  in  all  my  vigils  I  have  not  forgotten  the 
tune  of  a  young  pulse.  Age  asks  with  timidity  to  be 
spared  intolerable  pain;  youth,  taking  fortune  by  the 
beard,  demands  joy  like  a  right.  These  things  I  have 
not  forgotten;  none,  rather,  has  more  keenly  felt,  none 
more  jealously  considered  them;  I  have  but  postponed 
them  to  their  day.  See,  then;  you  stand  without  sup- 
port; the  only  friend  left  to  you,  this  old  investigator, 
old  in  cunning,  young  in  sympathy.  Answer  me  but 
one  question.     Are    you    free    from    the   entanglement  of 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  55 

what  the  world  calls  love?  Do  you  still  command  your 
heart  and  purposes?  or  are  you  fallen  in  some  bond- 
slavery  of  the  eye  and  ear?" 

I  answered  him  in  broken  words;  my  heart,  I  think 
I   must  have  told  him,   lay  with   my  dead  parents. 

"It  is  enough,"  he  said.  "It  has  been  my  fate  to 
be  called  on  often,-  too  often,  for  those  services  of 
which  we  spoke  to-night;  none  in  Utah  could  carry 
them  so  well  to  a  conclusion;  hence  there  has  fallen 
into  my  hands  a  certain  share  of  influence  which  I  now 
lay  at  your  service,  partly  for  the  sake  of  my  dead 
friends,  your  parents;  partly  for  the  interest  I  bear 
you  in  your  own  right.  I  shall  send  you  to  England, 
to  the  great  city  of  London,  there  to  await  the  bride- 
groom I  have  selected.  He  shall  be  a  son  of  mine,  a 
young  man  suitable  in  age  and  not  grossly  deficient  in 
that  quality  of  beauty  that  your  years  demand.  Since 
your  heart  is  free,  you  may  well  pledge  me  the  sole 
promise  that  I  ask  in  return  for  much  expense  and 
still  more  danger;  to  await  the  arrival  of  that  bride- 
groom with  the  delicacy   of  a  wife." 

I  sat  a  while  stunned.  The  doctor's  marriages,  I 
remembered  to  have  heard,  had  been  unfruitful;  and 
this  added  perplexity  to  my  distress.  But  I  was  alone, 
as  he  had  said,  alone  in  that  dark  land;  the  thought 
of  escape,  of  any  equal  marriage,  was  already  enough 
to  revive  in  me  some  dawn  of  hope;  and  in  what 
words  I  know  not,    I   accepted  the  proposal. 

He  seemed  more  moved  by  my  consent  than  I  could 
reasonably  have  looked  for.  "You  shall  see,"  he  cried; 
"you  shall  judge  for  yourself."  And  hurrying  to  the 
next    room  he    returned  with  a  small    portrait   somewhat 


5(i  U/orKs  of  Robert  Couis  Steverjsoo 

coarsely  done  in  oils.  It  showed  a  man  in  the  dress 
of  nearly  forty  years  before,  young  indeed,  but  still 
recognizable  to  be  the  doctor.  "Do  you  like  it?"  he 
asked.  "That  is  myself  when  I  was  young.  My — my 
boy  will  be  like  that,  like  but  nobler;  with  such  health 
as  angels  might  condescend  to  envy;  and  a  man  of 
mind,  Asenath,  of  commanding  mind.  That  should  be 
a  man,  I  think,  that  should  be  one  among  ten  thou 
sand.  A  man  like  that — one  to  combine  the  passions 
of  youth  with  the  restraint,  the  force,  the  dignity  of 
age — one  to  fill  all  the  parts  and  faculties,  one  to  be 
man's  epitome — say,  will  that  not  satisfy  the  needs  of 
an  ambitious  girl?  Say,  is  not  that  enough?"  And  as 
he  held  the  picture  close  before  my  eyes,  his  hands 
shook. 

I  told  him  briefly  I  would  ask  no  better,  for  I  was 
transpierced  with  this  display  of  fatherly  emotion;  but 
even  as  I  said  the  words,  the  most  insolent  revolt 
surged  through  my  arteries.  I  held  him  in  horror,  him, 
his  portrait,  and  his  son;  and  had  there  been  any  choice 
but  death  or  a  Mormon  marriage,  I  declare  before 
Heaven   I  had  embraced   it. 

"It  is  well,"  he  replied,  "and  I  had  rightly  counted 
on  your  spirit.  Eat,  then,  for  you  have  far  to  go." 
So  saying,  he  set  meat  before  me;  and  while  I  was 
endeavoring  to  obey,  he  left  the  room  and  returned 
with  an  armful  of  coarse  raiment.  "There,"  said  he, 
"is  your  disguise.     I  leave  you  to  your  toilet." 

The  clothes  had  probably  belonged  to  a  somewhat 
lubberly  boy  of  fifteen;  and  they  hung  about  me  like 
a  sack,  and  cruelly  hampered  my  movements.  But 
what  filled  me  with    uncontrollable    shudderings  was  the 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  57 

problem  of  their  origin  and  the  fate  of  the  lad  to 
whom  they  had  belonged.  I  had  scarcely  effected  the 
exchange  when  the  doctor  returned,  opened  a  back 
window,  helped  me  out  into  the  narrow  space  between 
the  house  and  the  overhanging  bluffs,  and  showed  me 
a  ladder  of  iron  footholds  mortised  in  the  rock. 
"Mount,"  he  said,  swiftly.  "When  you  are  at  the 
summit,  walk  so  far  as  you  are  able,  in  the  shadow 
of  the  smoke.  The  smoke  will  bring  you,  sooner  or 
later,  to  a  canyon;  follow  that  down,  and  you  will 
find  a  man  with  two  horses.  Him  you  will  implicitly 
obey.  And  remember,  silence!  That  machinery  which 
I  now  put  in  motion  for  your  service  may  by  one 
word  be  turned  against  you.  Go;  Heaven  prosper 
you!" 

The  ascent  was  easy.  Arrived  at  the  top  of  the 
cliff,  I  saw  before  me  on  the  other  side  a  vast  and 
gradual  declivity  of  stone,  lying  bare  to  the  moon  and 
the  surrounding  mountains.  Nowhere  was  any  vantage 
or  concealment;  and  knowing  how  these  deserts  were 
beset  with  spies,  I  made  haste  to  veil  my  movements 
under  the  blowing  trail  of  smoke.  Sometimes  it  swam 
high,  rising  on  the  night  wind,  and  I  had  no  more 
substantial  curtain  than  its  moon-thrown  shadow;  some- 
times again  it  crawled  upon  the  earth,  and  I  would 
walk  in  it,  no  higher  than  to  my  shoulders,  like  some 
mountain  fog.  But,  one  way  or  another,  the  smoke  of 
that  ill-omened  furnace  protected  the  first  step  of  my 
escape,    and  led   me  unobserved  to  the  canyon. 

There,  sure  enough,  1  found  a  taciturn  and  somber 
man  beside  a  pair  of  saddle-horses;  and  thenceforward, 
all    night    long,    we   wandered    in    silence    by    the    most 


58  U/ork^s   of   Robert   Couis   Stevenson 

occult  and  dangerous  paths  among  the  mountains.  A 
little  before  the  dayspring  we  took  refuge  in  a  wet 
and  gusty  cavern  at  the  bottom  of  a  gorge;  lay  there 
all  day  concealed;  and  the  next  night,  before  the  glow 
had  failed  out  of  the  west,  resumed  our  wanderings. 
About  noon  we  stopped  again,  in  a  lawn  upon  a  little 
river,  where  was  a  screen  of  bushes;  and  here  my  guide, 
handing  me  a  bundle  from  his  pack,  bade  me  change 
my  dress  once  more.  The  bundle  contained  clothing  of 
my  own,  taken  from  our  house,  with  such  necessaries 
as  a  comb  and  soap.  I  made  my  toilet  by  the  mirror 
of  a  quiet  pool;  and  as  I  was  so  doing  and  smiling 
with  some  complacency  to  see  myself  restored  to  my 
own  image,  the  mountains  rang  with  a  scream  of  far 
more  than  human  piercingness ;  and  while  I  still  stood 
astonished,  there  sprang  up  and  swiftly  increased  a 
storm  of  the  most  awful  and  earth-rending  sounds. 
Shall  I  own  to  you  that  I  fell  upon  my  face  and 
shrieked?  And  yet  this  was  but  the  overland  train 
winding  among  the  near  mountains:  the  very  means  of 
my  salvation:  the  strong  wings  that  were  to  carry  me 
from   Utah! 

When  I  was  dressed,  the  guide  gave  me  a  bag, 
which  contained,  he  said,  both  money  and  papers;  and 
telling  me  that  I  was  already  over  the  borders  in  the 
territory  of  Wyoming,  bade  me  follow  the  stream  until 
I  reached  the  railway  station,  half  a  mile  below. 
"Here,"  he  added,  "is  your  ticket  as  far  as  Council 
Bluffs.  The  East  express  will  pass  in  a  few  hours." 
With  that  he  took  both  horses  and,  without  further 
words  or  any  salutation,  rode  off  by  the  way  that  we 
had  come. 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  59 

Three  hours  afterward,  I  was  seated  on  the  end 
platform  of  the  train  as  it  swept  eastward  through  the 
gorges  and  thundered  in  tunnels  of  the  mountain.  The 
change  of  scene,  the  sense  of  escape,  the  still  throbbing 
terror  of  pursuit — above  all,  the  astounding  magic  of 
my  new  conveyance,  kept  me  from  any  logical  or 
melancholy  thought.  I  had  gone  to  the  doctor's  house 
two  nights  before  prepared  to  die,  prepared  for  worse 
than  death;  what  had  passed,  terrible  although  it  was, 
looked  almost  bright  compared  to  my  anticipations;  and 
it  was  not  till  I  had  slept  a  full  night  in  the  flying 
palace  car,  that  I  awoke  to  the  sense  of  my  irreparable 
loss  and  to  some  reasonable  alarm  about  the  future.  In 
this  mood,  I  examined  the  contents  of  the  bag.  It  was 
well  supplied  with  gold;  it  contained  tickets  and  com- 
plete directions  for  my  journey  as  far  as  Liverpool,  and 
a  long  letter  from  the  doctor,  supplying  me  with  a 
fictitious  name  and  story,  recommending  the  most 
guarded  silence,  and  bidding  me  to  await  faithfully  the 
coming  of  his  son.  All  then  had  been  arranged  before- 
hand: he  had  counted  upon  my  consent,  and  what  was 
tenfold  worse,  upon  my  mother's  voluntary  death.  My 
horror  of  my  only  friend,  my  aversion  for  this  son  who 
was  to  marry  me,  my  revolt  against  the  whole  current 
and  conditions  of  my  life,  were  now  complete.  I  was 
sitting  stupefied  by  my  distress  and  helplessness,  when, 
to  my  joy,  a  very  pleasant  lady  offered  me  her  con- 
versation. I  clutched  at  the  relief;  and  I  was  soon 
glibly  telling  her  the  story  in  the  doctor's  letter:  how  I 
was  a  Miss  Gould,  of  Nevada  City,  going  to  England  to 
an  uncle,  what  money  I  had,  what  family,  my  age, 
and    so    forth,    until    I    had    exhausted    my    instructions, 


60  U/orKs  of  Robert  Couij  SteueQjor? 

and  as  the  lady  still  continued  to  ply  me  with  ques- 
tions, began  to  embroider  on  my  own  account.  This 
soon  carried  one  of  my  inexperience  beyond  her  depth; 
and  I  had  already  remarked  a  shadow  on  the  lady's 
face,  when  a  gentleman  drew  near  and  very  civilly 
addressed  me: 

"Miss  Gould,  I  believe?"  said  he;  and  then,  excusing 
himself  to  the  lady  by  the  authority  of  my  guardian, 
drew  me  to  the  fore  platform  of  the  Pullman  car. 
"Miss  Gould,"  ne  said  in  my  ear,  "is  it  possible  that 
you  suppose  yourself  in  safety?  Let  me  completely  un- 
deceive you.  One  more  such  indiscretion  and  you  return 
to  Utah.  And,  in  the  meanwhile,  if  this  woman  should 
again  address  you,  you  are  to  reply  with  these  words: 
'Madam,  I  do  not  like  you,  and  I  will  be  obliged  if 
you   will   suffer  me   to   choose   my  own   associates.'  " 

Alas,  I  had  to  do  as  I  was  bid;  this  lady,  to  whom 
I  already  felt  myself  drawn  with  the  strongest  cords 
of  sympathy,  I  dismissed  with  insult;  and  thencefor- 
ward, through  all  that  day,  I  sat  in  silence,  gazing 
on  the  bare  plains  and  swallowing  my  tears.  Let  that 
suffice:  it  was  the  pattern  of  my  journey.  "Whether  on 
the  train,  at  the  hotels,  or  on  board  the  ocean  steamer, 
I  never  exchanged  a  friendly  word  with  any  fellow 
traveler  but  I  was  certain  to  be  interrupted.  In  every 
place,  on  every  side,  the  most  unlikely  persons,  man 
or  woman,  rich  or  poor,  became  protectors  to  forward 
me  upon  my  journey  or  spies  to  observe  and  regulate 
my  conduct.  Thus  I  crossed  the  States,  thus  passed 
the  ocean,  the  Mormon  Eye  still  following  my  move- 
ments; and  when  at  length  a  cab  had  set  me  down 
before  that   London   lodging-house   from   which    you    saw 


Tl?e   Dynamiter  •        61 

me  fleeing  this  morning,  I  had   already  ceased  to  strug- 
gle,   and  ceased  to  hope. 

The  landlady,  like  every  one  else  through  all  that 
journey,  was  expecting  my  arrival.  A  fire  was  lighted 
in  my  room,  which  looked  upon  the  garden;  there  were 
books  on  the  table,  clothes  in  the  drawers;  and  there 
(I  had  almost  said  with  contentment,  and  certainly  with 
resignation)  I  saw  month  follow  month  over  my  head. 
At  times  my  landlady  took  me  for  a  walk  or  an  ex- 
cursion, but  she  would  never  suffer  me  to  leave  the 
house  alone;  and  I,  seeing  that  she  also  lived  under 
the  shadow  of  that  widespread  Mormon  terror,  felt  too 
much  pity  to  resist.  To  the  child  born  on  Mormon  soil, 
as  to  the  man  who  accepts  the  engagements  of  a  secret 
order,  no  escape  is  possible;  so  I  had  clearly  read,  and  I 
was  thankful  even  for  this  respite.  Meanwhile,  I  tried 
honestly  to  prepare  my  mind  for  my  approaching  nup- 
tials. The  day  drew  near  when  my  bridegroom  was  to 
visit  me.  and  gratitude  and  fear  alike  obliged  me  to 
consent.  A  son  of  Dr.  Grierson's,  be  he  what  he 
pleased,  must  still  be  young,  and  it  was  even  probable 
he  should  be  handsome;  on  more  than  that,  I  felt  I 
dared  not  reckon;  and  in  molding  my  mind  toward 
consent  I  dwelt  the  more  carefully  on  these  physical 
attractions  which  I  felt  I  might  expect,  and  averted 
my  eyes  from  moral  or  intellectual  considerations.  "We 
have  a  great  power  upon  our  spirits;  and  as  time  passed 
I  worked  myself  into  a  frame  of  acquiescence,  nay,  and 
I  began  to  grow  impatient  for  the  hour.  At  night  sleep 
forsook  me;  I  sat  all  day  by  the  fire,  absorbed  in 
dreams,  conjuring  up  the  features  of  my  husband,  and 
anticipating    in    fancy  the    touch    of    his    hand    and   the 


62  U/orl^s   of   Robert   Couis   Stevepsor; 

sound  of  his  voice.  In  the  dead  level  and  solitude  of 
my  existence,  this  was  the  one  eastern  window  and  the 
one  door  of  hope.  At  last,  I  had  so  cultivated  and 
prepared  my  will,  that  I  began  to  be  besieged  with 
fears  upon  the  other  side.  How  if  it  was  I  that  did 
not  please?  How  if  this  unseen  lover  should  turn  from 
me  with  disaffection?  And  now  I  spent  hours  before 
the  glass,  studying  and  judging  my  attractions,  and  was 
never  weary  of  changing  my  dress  or  ordering  my  hair. 

"When  the  day  came  I  was  long  about  my  toilet; 
but  at  last,  with  a  sort  of  hopeful  desperation,  I  had 
to  own  that  I  could  do  no  more,  and  must  now  stand 
or  fall  by  nature.  My  occupation  ended,  I  fell  a  prey 
to  the  most  sickening  impatience,  mingled  with  alarms; 
giving  ear  to  the  swelling  rumor  of  the  streets,  and  at 
each  change  of  sound  or  silence,  starting,  shrinking,  and 
coloring  to  the  brow.  Love  is  not  to  be  prepared,  I 
know,  without  some  knowledge  of  the  object;  and  yet, 
when  the  cab  at  last  rattled  to  the  door  and  I  heard 
my  visitor  mount  the  stairs,  such  was  the  tumult  of 
hopes  in  my  poor  bosom  that  love  itself  might  have  been 
proud  to  own  their  parentage.  The  door  opened,  and 
it  was  Dr.  Grierson  that  appeared.  I  believe  I  must 
have  screamed  aloud,  and  I  know,  at  least,  that  I  fell 
fainting  to  the  floor. 

When  I  came  to  myself  he  was  standing  over  me, 
counting  my  pulse.  "I  have  startled  you,"  he  said. 
"A  difficulty  unforeseen — the  impossibility  of  obtaining 
a  certain  drug  in  its  full  purity — has  forced  me  to  resort 
to  London  unprepared.  I  regret  that  I  should  have 
shown  myself  once  more  without  those  poor  attractions 
which    are    much,    perhaps,    to    you,   but    to    me  are  no 


Tfre    Dynamiter  63 

more  considerable  than  rain  that  falls  into  the  sea. 
Youth  is  but  a  state,  as  passing  as  that  syncope  from 
which  you  are  but  just  awakened,  and,  if  there  be 
truth  in  science,  as  easy  to  recall;  for  I  find,  Asenath, 
that  I  must  now  take  you  for  my  confidante.  Since  my 
first  years,  I  have  devoted  every  hour  and  act  of  life 
to  one  ambitious  task;  and  the  time  of  my  success  is 
at  hand.  In  these  new  countries,  where  I  was  so  long 
content  to  stay,  I  collected  indispensable  ingredients;  I 
have  fortified  myself  on  every  side  from  the  possibility 
of  error;  what  was  a  dream  now  takes  the  substance 
of  reality;  and  when  I  offered  you  a  son  of  mine  I 
did  so  in  a  figure.  That  son — that  husband,  Asenath, 
is  myself — not  as  you  now  behold  me,  but  restored  to 
the  first  energy  of  youth.  You  think  me  mad?  It  is 
the  customary  attitude  of  ignorance.  I  will  not  argue; 
I  will  leave  facts  to  speak.  When  you  behold  me  puri- 
fied, invigorated,  renewed,  restamped  in  the  original 
image — when  you  recognize  in  me  (what  I  shall  be) 
the  first  perfect  expression  of  the  powers  of  mankind — 
I  shall  be  able  to  laugh  with  a  better  grace  at  your 
passing  and  natural  incredulity.  To  what  can  you 
aspire— fame,  riches,  power,  the  charm  of  youth,  the 
dear-bought  wisdom  of  age — that  I  shall  not  be  able  to 
afford  you  in  perfection?  Do  not  deceive  yourself.  I 
already  excel  you  in  every  human  gift  but  one:  when 
that  gift  also  has  been  restored  to  me  you  will  recognize 
your  master." 

Hereupon,  consulting  his  watch,  he  told  me  he  must 
now  leave  me  to  myself;  and  bidding  me  consult  reason, 
and  not  girlish  fancies,  he  withdrew.  I  had  not  the 
courage    to    move;    the    night    fell    and    found    me    still 


64  U/orl^5   of   Robert   Coui5   Stevepsoi) 

where  he  had  laid  me  during  my  faint,  my  face  buried 
in  my  hands,  my  soul  drowned  in  the  darkest  appre- 
hensions. Late  in  the  evening  he  returned,  carrying  a 
candle,  and,  with  a  certain  irritable  tremor,  bade  me 
rise  and  sup.  "Is  it  possible,"  he  added,  "that  I  have 
been  deceived  in  your  courage?  A  cowardly  girl  is  no 
fit  mate  for  me." 

I  flung  myself  before  him  on  my  knees,  and  with 
floods  of  tears  besought  him  to  release  me  from  this 
engagement,  assuring  him  that  my  cowardice  was  abject, 
and  that  in  every  point  of  intellect  and  character  I 
was  his  hopeless  and   derisible  inferior. 

"Why,  certainly,"  he  replied.  "I  know  you  better 
than  yourself;  and  I  am  well  enough  acquainted  with 
human  nature  to  understand  this  scene.  It  is  addressed 
to  me,"  he  added  with  a  smile,  "in  my  character  of 
the  still  untransformed.  But  do  not  alarm  yourself 
about  the  future.  Let  me  but  attain  my  end,  and  not 
you  only,  Asenath,  but  every  woman  on  the  face  of 
the  earth  becomes  my  willing  slave." 

Thereupon  he  obliged  me  to  rise  and  eat;  sat  down 
with  me  to  table;  helped  and  entertained  me  with  the 
attentions  of  a  fashionable  host;  and  it  was  not  till  a 
late  hour,  that,  bidding  me  courteously  good-night,  he 
once  more  left  me   alone  to  my  misery. 

In  all  this  talk  of  an  elixir  and  the  restoration  of 
his  youth,  I  scarce  knew  from  which  hypothesis  I 
should  the  more  eagerly  recoil.  If  his  hopes  reposed  on 
any  base  of  fact,  if  indeed,  by  some  abhorrent  miracle, 
he  should  discard  his  age,  death  were  my  only  refuge 
from  that  most  unnatural,  that  most  ungodly  union. 
If,   on    the    other    hand,   these    dreams   were    merely  lu- 


Jtye   Dynamiter  65 

natic,  the  madness  of  a  life  waxed  suddeidy  acute,  my 
pity  would  become  a  load  almost  as  heavy  to  bear  as 
my  revolt  against  the  marriage.  So  passed  the  night, 
in  alternations  of  rebellion  and  despair,  of  hate  and 
pity;  and  with  the  next  morning  I  was  only  to  com- 
prehend more  fully  my  enslaved  position.  For  though 
he  appeared  with  a  very  tranquil  countenance,  he  had 
no  sooner  observed  the  marks  of  grief  upon  my  brow 
than  an  answering  darkness  gathered  on  his  own. 
"Asenath,"  he  said,  "you  owe  me  much  already;  with 
one  finger  I  still  hold  you  suspended  over  death;  my 
life  is  full  of  labor  and  anxiety;  and  I  choose,"  said 
he,  with  a  remarkable  accent  of  command,  "that  you 
shall  greet  me  with  a  pleasant  face."  He  never  needed 
to  repeat  the  recommendation;  from  that  day  forward 
I  was  always  ready  to  receive  him  with  apparent  cheer- 
fulness; and  he  rewarded  me  with  a  good  deal  of  his 
company,  and  almost  more  than  I  could  bear  of  his 
confidence.  He  had  set  up  a  laboratory  in  the  back 
part  of  the  house,  where  he  toiled  day  and  night  at 
his  elixir,  and  he  would  come  thence  to  visit  me  in  my 
parlor;  now  with  passing  humors  of  discouragement; 
now,  and  far  more  often,  radiant  with  hope.  It  was 
impossible  to  see  so  much  of  him,  and  not  to  recognize 
that  the  sands  of  his  life  were  running  low;  and  yet  all 
the  time  he  would  be  laying  out  vast  fields  of  future, 
and  planning,  with  all  the  confidence  of  youth,  the  most 
unbounded  schemes  of  pleasure  and  ambition.  How  I  re- 
plied I  know  not;  but  I  found  a  voice  and  words  to 
answer,  even    while   I  wept  and  raged   to  bear  him. 

A   week  ago    the  doctor    entered    my  room    with    the 

marks  of  great  exhilaration  contending  with  pitiful  bodily 

5_  Vol.  XIV. 


66  U/orKs   of   Robert   Couis   Stevenson 

weakness.  "Asenath,"  said  he,  "I  have  now  obtained 
the  last  ingredient.  In  one  week  from  now  the  perilous 
moment  of  the  last  projection  will  draw  nigh.  You 
have  once  before  assisted,  although  unconsciously,  at 
the  failure  of  a  similar  experiment.  It  was  the  elixir 
which  so  terribly  exploded  one  night  when  you  were 
passing  my  house;  and  it  is  idle  to  deny  that  the 
conduct  of  so  delicate  a  process,  among  the  million  jars 
and  trepidations  of  so  great  a  city,  presents  a  certain 
element  of  danger.  From  this  point  of  view,  I  can- 
not but  regret  the  perfect  stillness  of  my  house  among 
the  deserts;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  I  have  succeeded 
in  proving  that  the  singularly  unstable  equilibrium  of 
the  elixir,  at  the  moment  of  projection,  is  due  rather 
to  the  impurity  than  to  the  nature  of  the  ingredients; 
and  as  all  are  now  of  an  equal  and  exquisite  nicety, 
I  have  little  fear  for  the  result.  In  a  week  then  from 
to-day,  my  dear  Asenath,  this  period  of  trial  will  be 
ended."  And  he  smiled  upon  me  in  a  manner  un- 
usually paternal. 

I  smiled  back  with  my  lips,  but  at  my  heart  there 
raged  the  blackest  and  most  unbridled  terror.  What  if 
he  failed?  And  oh,  tenfold  worse!  what  if  he  succeeded? 
What  detested  and  unnatural  changeling  would  appeal* 
to  claim  my  hand?  And  could  there,  I  asked  myself 
with  a  dreadful  sinking,  be  any  truth  in  his  boasts  of 
an  assured  victory  over  my  reluctance?  I  knew  him, 
indeed,  to  be  masterful,  to  lead  my  life  at  a  sign.  Sup- 
pose, then,  this  experiment  to  succeed;  suppose  him  to 
return  to  me,  hideously  restored,  like  a  vampire  in  a 
legend;  and  suppose  that,  by  some  devilish  fascination 
.     .     .     My  head  turned;    all   former  fears    deserted  me; 


Ji)e   Dynamiter  67 

and  I  felt  I  could  embrace  the  worst  in  preference  to 
this. 

My  mind  was  instantly  made  up.  The  doctor's  pres- 
ence in  London  was  justified  by  the  affairs  of  the 
Mormon  polity.  Often  in  our  conversation,  he  would 
gloat  over  the  details  of  that  great  organization,  which 
he  feared  even  while  yet  he  wielded  it;  and  would 
remind  me  that,  even  in  the  humming  labyrinth  of 
Loudon,  we  were  still  visible  to  that  unsleeping  eye 
in  Utah.  His  visitors,  indeed,  who  were  of  every  sort, 
from  the  missionary  to  the  destroying  angel,  and 
seemed  to  belong  to  every  rank  of  life,  had,  up  to 
that  moment,  filled  me  with  unmixed  repulsion  and 
alarm.  I  knew  that  if  my  secret  were  to  reach  the 
ear  of  any  leader  my  fate  were  sealed  beyond  redemp- 
tion; and  yet  in  my  present  pass  of  horror  and  de- 
spair, it  was  to  these  very  men  that  I  turned  for 
help.  I  waylaid  upon  the  stair  one  of  the  Mormon 
missionaries,  a  man  of  a  low  class,  but  not  inaccessible 
to  pity;  told  him  I  scarce  remember  what  elaborate 
fable  to  explain  my  application;  and  by  his  interme- 
diacy  entered  into  correspondence  with  my  father's 
family.  They  recognized  my  claim  for  help,  and  on 
this  very  day   I  was  to  begin  my  escape. 

Last  night  I  sat  up  fully  dressed,  awaiting  the  re- 
sult of  the  doctor's  labors,  and  prepared  against  the 
worst.  The  nights  at  this  season  and  in  this  northern 
latitude  are  short;  and  I  had  soon  the  company  of  the 
returning  daylight.  The  silence  in  and  around  the 
house  was  only  broken  by  the  movements  of  the  doc- 
tor in  the  laboratory;  to  these  I  listened,  watch  in 
hand,    awaiting    the    hour    of    my  escape,    and    yet    con- 


68  U/orKs    °f   Robert    Couij    Stevenson 

sumed  by  anxiety  about  the  strange  experiment  that 
was  going  forward  overhead.  Indeed,  now  that  I  was 
conscious  of  some  protection  for  myself,  my  sympathies 
had  turned  more  directly  to  the  doctor's  side;  I  caught 
myself  even  praying  for  his  success;  and  when  some 
hours  ago  a  low,  peculiar  cry  reached  my  ears  from 
the  laboratory,  I  could  no  longer  control  my  impatience^ 
but  mounted  the  stairs   and   opened   the  door. 

The  doctor  was  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room; 
in  his  hand  a  large,  round-bellied,  crystal  flask,  some 
three  parts  full  of  a  bright  amber-colored  liquid;  on  his 
face  a  rapture  of  gratitude  and  joy  unspeakable.  As 
he  saw  me  he  raised  the  flask  at  arms-length.  "Vic- 
tory!" he  cried.  "Victory,  Asenath!"  And  then — 
whether  the  flask  escaped  his  trembling  fingers,  or 
whether  the  explosion  was  spontaneous,  I  cannot  tell  — 
enough  that  we  were  thrown,  I  against  the  door  post, 
the  doctor  into  the  corner  of  the  room;  enough  that 
we  were  shaken  to  the  soul  by  the  same  explosion 
that  must  have  startled  you  upon  the  street;  and  that, 
in  the  brief  space  of  an  indistinguishable  instant,  there 
remained  nothing  of  the  labors  of  the  doctor's  lifetime 
but  a  few  shards  of  broken  crystal  and  those  volumi- 
nous and  ill-smelling  vapors  that  pursued  me  in  my 
flight. 


THE   SQUIRE   OF   DAMES  {concluded) 

What  with  the  lady's  animated  manner  and  dra- 
matic conduct  of  her  voice,  Challoner  had  thrilled  to 
every  incident  with  genuine  emotion.     His   fancy,   which 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  69 

was  not  perhaps  of  a  very  lively  character,  applauded 
both  the  matter  and  the  style;  but  the  more  judicial 
functions  of  his  mind  refused  assent.  It  was  an  excel- 
lent story;  and  it  might  be  true,  but  he  believed  it 
was  not.  Miss  Fonblanque  was  a  lady,  and  it  was 
doubtless  possible  for  a  lady  to  wander  from  the  truth; 
but  how  was  a  gentleman  to  tell  her  so?  His  spirits 
for  some  time  had  been  sinking,  but  they  now  fell  to 
zero;  and  long  after  her  voice  had  died  away  he  still 
sat  with  a  troubled  and  averted  countenance,  and  could 
find  no  form  of  words  to  thank  her  for  her  narrative. 
His  mind,  indeed,  was  empty  of  everything  beyond  a 
dull  longing  for  •  escape.  From  this  pause,  which  grew 
more  embarrassing  with  every  second,  he  was  roused 
by  the  sudden  laughter  of  the  lady.  His  vanity  was 
alarmed;  he  turned  and  faced  her;  their  eyes  met; 
and  he  caught  from  hers  a  spark  of  such  frank  merri- 
ment as  put  him  instantly  at  ease. 

"You  certainly,"  he  said,  "appear  to  bear  your 
calamities   with   excellent   spirit." 

"Do  I  not?"  she  cried,  and  fell  once  more  into  de- 
licious laughter.  But  from  this  access  she  more  speed- 
ily recovered.  "This  is  all  very  well,"  said  she,  nod- 
ding at  him  gravely,  "but  I  am  still  in  a  most 
distressing  situation,  from  which,  if  you  deny  me  your 
help,    I  shall  find  it  difficult  indeed   to  free   myself." 

At  this  mention  of  help  Challoner  fell  back  to  his 
original   gloom. 

"My  sympathies  are  much  engaged  with  you,"  he 
said,  "and  I  should  be  delighted,  I  am  sure.  But  our 
position  is  most  unusual;  and  circumstances  over  which 
I    have,    I    can    assure    you,    no  control,    deprive    me    of 


70  U/orKj   of   Robert   Couis   Stevenson 

the  power — the  pleasure — unless,  indeed,"  he  added, 
somewhat  brightening  at  the  thought,  "I  were  to  rec- 
ommend you  to  the  care  of  the  police?" 

She  laid  her  hand  upon  his  arm  and  looked  hard 
into  his  eyes;  and  he  saw  with  wonder  that,  for  the 
first  time  since  the  moment  of  their  meeting,  every 
trace  of  color  had  faded  from   her  cheek. 

"Do  so,"  she  said,  "and — weigh  my  words  well — 
you  kill   me  as  certainly   as   with   a  knife." 

"God   bless  me!"    exclaimed   Challoner. 

"Oh,"  she  cried,  "I  can  see  you  disbelieve  my 
story  and  make  light  of  the  perils  that  surround  me; 
but  who  are  you  to  judge?  My  family  share  my  ap- 
prehensions; they  help  me  in  secret;  and  you  saw 
yourself  by  what  an  emissary,  and  in  what  a  place, 
they  have  chosen  to  supply  me  with  the  funds  for  my 
escape.  I  admit  that  you  are  brave  and  clever  and 
have  impressed  me  most  favorably;  but  how  are  you 
to  prefer  your  opinion  before  that  of  my  uncle,  an  ex- 
minister  of  state,  a  man  with  the  ear  of  the  Queen, 
and  of  a  long  political  experience?  If  I  am  mad,  is 
he?  And  you  must  allow  me,  besides,  a  special  claim 
upon  your  help.  Strange  as  you  may  think  my  story, 
you  know  that  much  of  it  is  true;  and  if  you,  who 
heard  the  explosion  and  saw  the  Mormon  at  Victoria, 
refuse  to  credit  and  assist  me,  to  whom   am  I  to  turn?" 

"He  gave  you  money  then?"  asked  Challoner,  who 
had  been  dwelling  singly  on   that  fact. 

"I  begin  to  interest  you,"  she  cried.  "But,  frankly, 
you  are  condemned  to  help  me.  If  the  service  I  had 
to  ask  of  you  were  serious,  were  suspicious,  were  even 
unusual,    I   should    say  no    more.      But  what  is   it?     To 


Jbe    Dynamiter  71 

take  a  pleasure  trip  (for  which,  if  you  will  suffer  me, 
I  propose  to  pay)  and  to  carry  from  one  lady  to  an- 
other a  sum   of   money!     What   can   be   more   simple?" 

"Is  the  sum,"   asked   Challoner,    "considerable?" 

She  produced  a  packet  from  her  bosom;  and  observ- 
ing that  she  had  not  yet  found  time  to  make  the 
count,  tore  open  the  cover  and  spread  upon  her  knees 
a  considerable  number  of  Bank  of  England  notes.  It 
took  some  time  to  make  the  reckoning,  for  the  notes 
were  of  every  degree  of  value;  but  at  last,  and  count- 
ing a  few  loose  sovereigns,  she  made  out  the  sum  to 
be  a  little  under  ?10Z.  sterling.  The  sight  of  so  much 
money  worked .  an  immediate  revolution  in  the  mind  of 
Challoner. 

"And  you  propose,  madam,"  he  cried,  "to  intrust 
that  money   to  a   perfect  stranger?" 

"Ah!"  said  she  with  a  charming  smile,  "but  I  no 
longer  regard   you  as  a  stranger." 

"Madam,"  said  Challoner,  "I  perceive  I  must  make 
you  a  confession.  Although  of  a  very  good  family — 
through  my  mother,  indeed,  a  lineal  descendant  of  the 
patriot  Bruce — I  dare  not  conceal  from  you  that  my 
affairs  are  deeply,  very  deeply  involved.  I  am  in  debt, 
my  pockets  are  practically  empty;  and,  in  short,  I  am 
fallen  to  that  state  when  a  considerable  sum  of  money 
would    prove  to   many  men    an    irresistible    temptation." 

"Do  you  not  see,"  returned  the  young  lady,  "that 
by  these  words  you  have  removed  my  last  hesitation? 
Take  them."  And  she  thrust  the  notes  into  the  young 
man's  hand. 

He  sat  so  long,  holding  them,  like  a  baby  at  the  font, 
that   Miss   Fonblanque   once   more   bubbled   into   laughter. 


72  U/orl^s    of   Robert    Couis    Stevenson 

"Pray,"  she  said,  "hesitate  no  further;  put  them 
in  your  pocket;  and  to  relieve  our  position  of  a  shadow 
of  embarrassment,  tell  me  by  what  name  I  am  to  ad- 
dress my  knight-errant,  for  I  find  myself  reduced  to 
the  awkwardness   of  the   pronoun." 

Had  borrowing  been  in  question,  the  wisdom  of  our 
ancestors  had  come  lightly  to  the  young  man's  aid; 
but  upon  what  pretext  could  he  refuse  so  generous  a 
trust?  Upon  none,  he  saw,  that  was  not  unpardonably 
wounding;  and  the  bright  eyes  and  the  high  spirits  of 
his  companion  had  already  made  a  breach  in  the  ram- 
part of  Challoner's  caution.  The  whole  thing,  he  rea- 
soned, might  be  a  mere  mystification,  which  it  were 
the  height  of  solemn  folly  to  resent.  On  the  other 
hand  the  explosion,  the  interview  at  the  public-house, 
and  the  very  money  in  his  hands,  seemed  to  prove  be- 
yond denial  the  existence  of  some  serious  danger;  and 
if  that  were  so,  could  he  desert  her?  There  was  a 
choice  of  risks:  the  risk  of  behaving  with  extraordinary 
incivility  and  unhandsomeness  to  a  lady,  and  the  risk 
of  going  on  a  fool's  errand.  The  story  seemed  false; 
but  then  the  money  was  undeniable.  The  whole  cir- 
cumstances were  questionable  and  obscure;  but  the  lady 
was  charming,  and  had  the  speech  and  manners  of  so- 
ciety. "While  he  still  hung  in  the  wind,  a  recollection 
returned  upon  his  mind  with  some  of  the  dignity  of 
prophecy.  Had  he  not  promised  Somerset  to  break  with 
the  traditions  of  the  commonplace,  and  to  accept  the 
first    adventure    offered?    Well,    here   was   the  adventure. 

He   thrust   the   money  into  his   pocket. 

"My  name  is   Challoner,"   said  he. 

"Mr.    Challoner,"   she  replied,    "you    have  come  very 


JI?e   Dynamiter  73 

generously  to  my  aid  when  all  was  against  me. 
Though  I  am  myself  a  very  humble  person,  my  family 
commands  great  interest;  and  I  do  not  think  you  will 
repent   this   handsome   action." 

Challoner  flushed   with  pleasure. 

"I  imagine  that,  perhaps,  a  consulship,"  she  added, 
her  eyes  dwelling  on  him  with  a  judicial  admiration, 
"a  consulship  in  some  great  town  or  capital — or  else — 
But  we  waste  time;  let  us  set  about  the  work  of  my 
delivery." 

She  took  his  arm  with  a  frank  confidence  that  went 
to  his  heart;  and  once  more  laying  by  all  serious 
thoughts,  she  entertained  him,  as  they  crossed  the 
park,  with  her  agreeable  gayety  of  mind.  Near  the 
Marble  Arch  they  found  a  hansom,  which  rapidly  con- 
veyed them  to  the  terminus  at  Euston  Square;  and 
here,  in  the  hotel,  they  sat  down  to  an  excellent 
breakfast.  The  young  lady's  first  step  was  to  call  for 
writing  materials  and  write,  upon  one  corner  of  the 
table,  a  hasty  note;  still,  as  she  did  so,  glancing  with 
smiles  at  her  companion.  "Here,"  said  she,  "here  is 
the  letter  which  will  introduce  you  to  my  cousin."  She 
began  to  fold  the  paper.  "My  cousin,  although  I  have 
never  seen  her,  has  the  character  of  a  very  charming 
woman  and  a  recognized  beauty;  of  that  I  know  noth- 
ing, but  at  least  she  has  been  very  kind  to  me;  so 
has  my  lord  her  father;  so  have  you — kinder  than  all 
— kinder  than  I  can  bear  to  think  of."  She  said  this 
with  unusual  emotion;  and,  at  the  same  time,  sealed 
the  envelope.  "Ah!"  she  cried,  "I  have  shut  my  let- 
ter! It  is  not  quite  courteous:  and  yet,  as  between 
friends,    it  is  perhaps    better  so.     I    introduce  you,   after 


74  U/orKs   of   Robert   Couis   Stevenson 

all,  into  a  family  secret;  and  though  you  and  I  are 
already  old  comrades,  you  are  still  unknown  to  my 
uncle.  You  go,  then,  to  this  address,  Richard  Street, 
Glasgow;  go,  please,  as  soon  as  you  arrive;  and  give 
this  letter  with  your  own  hands  into  those  of  Miss 
Fonblanque,  for  that  is  the  name  by  which  she  is  to 
pass.  When  we  next  meet,  you  will  tell  me  what  you 
think  of  her,"  she  added,  with  a  touch  of  the  provoc- 
ative. 

"Ah,"  said  Challoner,  almost  tenderly,  "she  can  be 
nothing  to  me." 

"You  do  not  know,"  replied  the  young  lady  with  a 
sigh.  "By  the  bye,  I  had  forgotten — it  is  very  child- 
ish, and  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  mention  it — but  when 
you  see  Miss  Fonblanque,  you  will  have  to  make  your- 
self a  little  ridiculous;  and  I  am  sure  the  part  in  no 
way  suits  you.  "We  had  agreed  upon  a  watchword. 
You  will  have  to  address  an  earl's  daughter  in  these 
words:  ' Nigger,  nigger,  never  die;''  but  reassure  your- 
self," she  added,  laughing,  "for  the  fair  patrician  will 
at  once  finish  the  quotation.  Come  now,  say  your 
lesson." 

"  'Nigger,  nigger,  never  die,'  "  repeated  Challoner, 
with  undisguised   reluctance. 

Miss  Fonblanque  went  into  fits  of  laughter.  "Excel- 
lent," said  she,  "it  will  be  the  most  humorous  scene." 
And  she  laughed   again. 

"And  what  will  be  the  counterword?"  asked  Chal- 
loner,   stiffly. 

"I  will  not  tell  you  till  the  last  moment,"  said  she; 
"for   I   perceive   you   are   growing  too  imperious." 

Breakfast    over,    she    accompanied    the  young  man   to 


Jlpe   Dynamiter  75 

the  platform,  bought  him  the  "Graphic,"  the  "Athe- 
naeum," and  a  paper-cutter,  and  stood  on  the  step  con- 
versing till  the  whistle  sounded.  Then  she  put  her 
head  into  the  carriage.  "Black  face  and  shining  eye!" 
she  whispered,  and  instantly  leaped  down  upon  the 
platform,  with  a  trill  of  gay  and  musical  laughter. 
As  the  train  steamed  out  of  the  great  arch  of  glass, 
the  sound  of  that  laughter  still  rang  in  the  young 
man's  ears. 

Challoner's  position  was  too  unusual  to  be  long  wel- 
come to  his  mind.  He  found  himself  projected  the 
whole  length  of  England,  on  a  mission  beset  with  ob- 
scure and  ridiculous  circumstances,  and  yet,  by  the 
trust  he  had  accepted,  irrevocably  bound  to  persevere. 
How  easy  it  appeared,  in  the  retrospect,  to  have  re- 
fused the  whole  proposal,  returned  the  money,  and 
gone  forth  again  upon  his  own  affairs,  a  free  and 
happy  man!  And  it  was  now  impossible:  the  enchan- 
tress who  had  held  him  with  her  eye  had  now  disap- 
peared, taking  his  honor  in  pledge;  and  as  she  had 
failed  to  leave  him  an  address,  he  was  denied  even 
the  iDglorious  safety  of  retreat.  To  use  the  paper-knife, 
or  even  to  read  the  periodicals  with  which  she  had 
presented  him,  was  to  renew  the  bitterness  of  his  re- 
morse; and  as  he  was  alone  in  the  compartment,  he 
passed  the  day  staring  at  the  landscape  in  impotent 
repentance,  and  long  before  he  was  landed  on  the  plat- 
form of  St.  Enoch's,  had  fallen  to  the  lowest  and  cold- 
est zones  of  self-contempt. 

As  he  was  hungry,  and  elegant  in  his  habits,  he 
would  have  preferred  to  dine  and  to  remove  the  stains 
of    travel;    but    the   words    of    the  young  lady,   and  his 


76  U/orKs   of   Robert   Couis   Steuensor; 

own  impatient  eagerness,  would  suffer  no  delay.  In 
the  late,  luminous  and  lamp-starred  dusk  of  the  sum- 
mer evening,  he  accordingly  set  forward  with  brisk 
steps. 

The  street  to  which  he  was  directed  had  first  seen 
the  day  in  the  character  of  a  row  of  small  suburban 
villas  on  a  hillside;  but  the  extension  of  the  city  had, 
long  since  and  on  every  hand,  surrounded  it  with  miles 
of  streets.  From  the  top  of  the  hill  a  range  of  very 
tall  buildings,  densely  inhabited  by  the  very  poorest 
classes  of  the  population  and  variegated  by  drying- 
poles  from  every  second  window,  overplumbed  the  villas 
and  their  little  gardens  like  a  seaboard  cliff.  But  still, 
under  the  grime  of  years  of  city  smoke,  these  anti- 
quated cottages,  with  their  Venetian  blinds  and  rural 
porticoes,  retained  a  somewhat  melancholy  savor  of  the 
past. 

The  street,  when  Challoner  entered  it,  was  perfectly 
deserted.  From  hard  by,  indeed,  the  sound  of  a  thou- 
sand footfalls  filled  the  ear;  but  in  Richard  Street 
itself  there  was  neither  light  nor  sound  of  human 
habitation.  The  appearance  of  the  neighborhood  weighed 
heavily  on  the  mind  of  the  young  man;  once  more,  as 
in  the  streets  of  London,  he  was  impressed  with  the 
sense  of  city  deserts;  and  as  he  approached  the  num- 
ber indicated,  and  somewhat  falteringly  rang  the  bell, 
his  heart  sank   within   him. 

The  bell  was  ancient,  like  the  house;  it  had  a  thin 
and  garrulous  note;  and  it  was  some  time  before  it 
ceased  to  sound  from  the  rear  quarters  of  the  build- 
ing. Following  upon  this  an  inner  door  was  stealthily 
opened,    and   careful    and  catlike    steps    drew  near  along 


JI?e   Dynamiter  77 

the  hall.  Challoner,  supposing  he  was  to  be  instantly 
admitted,  produced  his  letter  and,  as  well  as  he  was 
able,  prepared  a  smiling  face.  To  his  indescribable  sur- 
prise, however,  the  footsteps  ceased,  and  then,  after  a 
pause  and  with  the  like  stealthiness,  withdrew  once 
more,  and  died  away  in  the  interior  of  the  house.  A 
second  time  the  young  man  rang  violently  at  the  bell; 
a  second  time,  to  his  keen  hearkening,  a  certain  bustle 
of  discreet  footing  moved  upon  the  hollow  boards  of 
the  old  villa;  and  again  the  faint-hearted  garrison  only 
drew  near  to  retreat.  The  cup  of  the  visitor's  endur- 
ance was  now  full  to  overflowing;  and,  committing  the 
whole  family  of  Fonblanque  to  every  mood  and  shade 
of  condemnation,  he  turned  upon  his  heel  and  rede- 
scended  the  s  eps.  Perhaps  the  mover  in  the  house 
was  watching  from  a  window,  and  plucked  up  courage 
at  the  sight  of  this  desistance;  or  perhaps,  where  he 
lurked  trembling  in  the  back  part  of  the  villa,  reason 
in  its  own  right  had  conquered  his  alarms.  Challoner, 
at  least,  had  scarce  set  foot  upon  the  pavement  when 
he  was  arrested  bjT  the  sound  of  the  withdrawal  of 
an  inner  bolt;  one  followed  another  rattling  in  their 
sockets;  the  key  turned  harshly  in  the  lock;  the  door 
opened;  and  there  appeared  upon  the  threshold  a  man 
of  a  very  stalwart  figure  in  his  shirt  sleeves.  He  was 
a  person  neither  of  great  manly  beauty  nor  of  a  re- 
fined exterior;  he  was  not  the  man,  in  ordinary  moods, 
to  attract  the  eyes  of  the  observer;  but  as  he  now 
stood  in  the  doorway,  he  was  marked  so  legibly  with 
the  extreme  passion  of  terror  that  Challoner  stood  won- 
der-struck. For  a  fraction  of  a  minute  they  gazed  upon 
each  other  in  silence;    and  then,  the  man    of    the  house, 


78  U/orKj    of   Robert    Couij    Steuenson 

with  ashen  lips  and  gasping  voice,  inquired  the  busi- 
ness of  his  visitor.  Challoner  replied,  in  tones  from 
which  he  strove  to  banish  his  surprise,  that  he  was 
the  bearer  of  a  letter  to  a  certain  Miss  Fonblanque. 
At  this  name,  as  at  a  talisman,  the  man  fell  back 
and  impatiently  invited  him  to  enter;  and  no  sooner 
had  the  adventurer  crossed  the  threshold,  than  the  door 
was  closed   behind  him   and  his  retreat  cut  off. 

It  was  already  long  past  eight  at  night;  and  though 
the  late  twilight  of  the  north  still  lingered  in  the 
streets,  in  the  passage  it  was  already  groping  dark. 
The  man  led  Challoner  directly  to  a  parlor  looking  on 
the  garden  to  the  back.  Here  he  had  apparently  been 
supping;  for,  by  the  light  of  a  tallow  dip,  the  table 
was  seen  to  be  covered  with  a  napkin,  and  set  out 
with  a  quart  of  bottled  ale  and  the  heel  of  a  Gouda 
cheese.  The  room,  on  the  other  hand,  was  furnished 
with  faded  solidity,  and  the  walls  were  lined  with 
scholarly  and  costly  volumes  in  glazed  cases.  The 
house  must  have  been  taken  furnished;  for  it  had  no 
congruity  with  this  man  of  the  shirt  sleeves  and  the 
mean  supper.  As  for  the  earl's  daughter,  the  earl  and 
the  visionary  consulships  in  foreign  cities,  they  had 
long  ago  begun  to  fade  in  Challoner's  imagination. 
Like  Dr.  Grierson  and  the  Mormon  angels,  they  were 
plainly  woven  of  the  stuff  of  dreams.  Not  an  illusion 
remained  to  the  knight-errant;  not  a  hope  was  left 
him,  but  to  be  speedily  relieved  from  this  disreputable 
business. 

The  man  had  continued  to  regard  his  visitor  with 
undisguised  anxiety,  and  began  once  more  to  press  him 
for  his  errand. 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  79 

"I  am  here,"  said  Challoner,  "simply  to  do  a  ser- 
vice between  two  ladies;  and  I  must  ask  you,  without 
further  delay,  to  summon  Miss  Fonblanque,  into  whose 
hands  alone  I  am  authorized  to  deliver  the  letter  that 
I  bear." 

A  growing  wonder  began  to  mingle  on  the  man's 
face  with  the  lines  of  solicitude.  "I  am  Miss  Fon- 
blanque," he  said;  and  then,  perceiving  the  effect  of 
this  communication,  "Good  God!"  he  cried,  "what  are 
you  staring  at?     I  tell  you,    I  am   Miss  Fonblanque." 

Seeing  the  speaker  wore  a  chin-beard  of  considerable 
length,  and  the  remainder  of  his  face  was  blue  with 
shaving,  Challoner  could  only  suppose  himself  the  sub- 
ject of  a  jest.  He  was  no  longer  under  the  spell  of 
the  young  lady's  presence;  and  with  men,  and  above 
all  with  his  inferiors,  he  was  capable  of  some  display 
of  spirit. 

"Sir,"  said  he,  pretty  roundly,  "I  have  put  myself 
to  great  inconvenience  for  persons  of  whom  I  know  too 
little,  and  I  begin  to  be  weary  of  the  business.  Either 
you  shall  immediately  summon  Miss  Fonblanque,  or  I 
leave  this  house  and  put  myself  under  the  direction  of 
the  police." 

"This  is  horrible!"  exclaimed  the  man.  "I  declare 
before  Heaven  I  am  the  person  meant,  but  how  shall 
I  convince  you?  It  must  have  been  Clara,  I  perceive, 
that  sent  you  on  this  errand — a  mad  woman,  who  jests 
.with  the  most  deadly  interests;  and  here  we  are  in- 
capable, perhaps,  of  an  agreement,  and  Heaven  knows 
what  may  depend  on  our  delay!" 

He  spoke  with  a  really  startling  earnestness;  and  at 
the  same  time  there  flashed  upon  the  mind  of  Challoner 


80  U/orl^s   of   Robert   Couis   Stevenson 

the  ridiculous  jingle  which  was  to  serve  as  a  pass- 
word. "This  may,  perhaps,  assist  you,"  he  said;  and 
then,  with  some  embarrassment:  "  'Nigger,  nigger, 
never  die.'  " 

A  light  of  relief  broke  upon  the  troubled  counte- 
nance of  the  man  with  the  chin-beard.  "  'Black  face  and 
shiniug  eye' — give  me  the  letter,"  he  panted  in  one  gasp. 

"Well,"  said  Challoner,  though  still  with  some  re- 
luctance, "I  suppose  I  must  regard  you  as  the  proper 
recipient;  and  though  I  may  justly  complain  of  the 
spirit  in  which  I  have  been  treated,  I  am  only  too  glad 
to  be  done  with  all  responsibility.  Here  it  is,"  and 
he  produced  the  envelope. 

The  man  leaped  upon  it  like  a  beast,  and  with  hands 
that  trembled  in  a  manner  painful  to  behold,  tore  it 
open  and  unfolded  the  letter.  As  he  read,  terror  seemed 
to  mount  upon  him  to  the  pitch  of  nightmare.  He 
struck  one  hand  upon  his  brow,  while  with  the  other, 
as  if  unconsciously,  he  crumpled  the  paper  to  a  ball. 
"My  gracious  powers!"  he  cried;  and  then,  dashing  to 
the  window,  which  stood  open  on  the  garden,  he  clapped 
forth  his  head  and  shoulders,  and  whistled  long  and 
shrill.  Challoner  fell  back  into  a  corner,  and  resolutely 
grasping  his  staff,  prepared  for  the  most  desperate 
events;  but  the  thoughts  of  the  man  with  the  chin-beard 
were  far  removed  from  violence.  Turning  again  into 
the  room,  and  once  more  beholding  his  visitor,  whom 
he  appeared  to  have  forgotten,  he  fairly  danced  with 
trepidation.  "Impossible!"  he  cried.  "Oh,  quite  impos- 
sible! O  Lord,  I  have  lost  my  head."  And  then,  once 
more  striking  his  hand  upon  his  brow,  "The  money!" 
he  exclaimed.     "Give  me  the  money." 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  81 

"My  good  friend,"  replied  Challoner,  "this  is  a  very- 
painful  exhibition ;  and  until  I  see  you  reasonably  master 
of  yourself,  I  decline  to  proceed  with  any  business." 

"You  are  quite  right,"  said  the  man.  "I  am  of  a 
very  nervous  habit;  a  long  course  of  the  dumb  ague 
has  undermined  my  constitution.  But  I  know  you  have 
money;  it  may  be  still  the  saving  of  me;  and  oh, 
dear  young  gentleman,   in  pity's   name  be    expeditious!" 

Challoner,  sincerely  uneasy  as  he  was,  could  scarce 
refrain  from  laughter;  but  he  was  himself  in  a  hurry 
to  be  gone,  and  without  more  delay  produced  the  money. 
"You  will  find  the  sum,  I  trust,  correct,"  he  observed; 
"and  let  me  ask  you   to   give   me   a  receipt." 

But  the  man  heeded  him  not.  He  seized  the  money, 
and  disregarding  the  sovereigns  that  rolled  loose  upon 
the  floor,    thrust  the  bundle  of  notes  into  his  pocket. 

"A  receipt,"  repeated  Challoner  with  some  asperity, 
"I  insist  on  a  receipt." 

"Receipt?"  repeated  the  man  a  little  wildly.  "A 
receipt?    Immediately!     Await  me  here." 

Challoner,  in  reply,  begged  the  gentleman  to  lose  no 
unnecessary  time,  as  he  was  himself  desirous  of  catching 
a  particular  train. 

"Ah,  by  God,  and  so  am  I!"  exclaimed  the  man 
with  the  chin-beard;  and  with  that  he  was  gone  out 
of  the  room,  and  had  rattled  up  stairs,  four  at  a  time, 
to  the   upper  story   of  the   villa. 

"This  is  certainly  a  most  amazing  business,"  thought 

Challoner,    "certainly  a    most    disquieting    affair;     and    I 

cannot  conceal  from    myself   that   I  have    become  mixed 

up  with    either    lunatics    or    malefactors.      I    may  truly 

thank  my  stars  that  I  am  so  nearly   and    so  creditably 

6-  Vol.  XTV. 


82  U/orKs   of   Robert    C0U15   Stevenson 

done  with  it."  Thus  thinking,  and  perhaps  remembering 
the  episode  of  the  whistle,  he  turned  to  the  open  win- 
dow. The  garden  was  still  faintly  clear;  he  could  dis- 
tinguish the  stairs  and  terraces  with  which  the  small 
domain  had  been  adorned  by  former  owners,  and  the 
blackened  bushes  and  dead  trees  that  had  once  afforded 
shelter  to  the  country  birds;  beyond  these  he  saw  the 
strong  retaining  wall,  some  thirty  feet  in  height,  which 
inclosed  the  garden  to  the  back;  and  again  above  that, 
the  pile  of  dingy  buildings  rearing  its  frontage  high 
into  the  night.  A  peculiar  object  lying  stretched  upon 
the  lawn  for  some  time  baffled  his  eyesight;  but  at 
length  he  made  it  out  to  be  a  long  ladder,  or  series  of 
ladders  bound  into  one;  he  was  still  wondering  of  what 
service  so  great  an  instrument  could  be  in  such  a  scant 
inclosure,  when  he  was  recalled  to  himself  by  the  noise 
of  some  one  running  violently  down  the  stairs.  This 
was  followed  by  the  sudden,  clamorous  banging  of  the 
house  door;  and  that,  again,  by  rapid  and  retreating 
footsteps  in  the  street. 

Challoner  sprang  into  the  passage.  He  ran  from 
room  to  room,  up  stairs  and  down  stairs;  and  in  that 
old  dingy  and  worm-eaten  house,  he  found  himself 
alone.  Only  in  one  apartment  looking  to  the  front  were 
there  any  traces  of  the  late  inhabitant:  a  bed  that  had 
been  recently  slept  in  and  not  made,  a  chest  of  drawers 
disordered  by  a  hasty  search,  and  on  the  floor  a  roll 
of  crumpled  paper.  This  he  picked  up.  The  light  in 
this  upper  story  looking  to  the  front  was  considerably 
brighter  than  in  the  parlor;  and  he  was  able  to  make 
out  that  the  paper  bore  the  mark  of  the  hotel  at 
Euston,    and    even    by  peering    closely,    to    decipher    the 


Jfye    Dynamiter  83 

following    lines    in    a   very  elegant    and    careful    female 
hand : 

"Dear  M'Guire — It  is  certain  your  retreat  is  known. 
We  have  just  had  another  failure,  clockwork  thirty  hours 
too  soon,  with  the  usual  humiliating  result.  Zero  is  quite 
disheartened.  We  are  all  scattered,  and  I  could  find  no  one 
but  the  solemn  ass  who  bring3  you  this  and  the  money.  I 
would  love  to  see  your  meeting. — Ever  yours, 

"Shining  Eye." 

Challoner  was  stricken  to  the  heart.  He  perceived 
by  what  facility,  by  what  unmanly  fear  of  ridicule,  he 
had  been  brought  down  to  be  the  gull  of  this  intriguer; 
and  his  wrath  flowed  forth  in  almost  equal  measure 
against  himself,  against  the  woman,  and  against  Som- 
erset, whose  idle  counsels  had  impelled  him  to  embark 
on  that  adventure.  At  the  same  time  a  great  and 
troubled  curiosity,  and  a  certain  chill  of  fear,  possessed 
his  spirit.  The  conduct  of  the  man  with  the  chin-beard, 
the  terms  of  the  letter,  and  the  explosion  of  the  early 
morning,  fitted  together  like  parts  in  some  obscure  and 
mischievous  imbroglio.  Evil  was  certainly  afoot;  evil, 
secrecy,  terror  and  falsehood  were  the  conditions  and 
the  passions  of  the  people  among  whom  he  had  begun 
to  move,  like  a  blind  puppet;  and  he  who  began  as  a 
puppet,  his  experience  told  him,  was  often  doomed  to 
perish   as   a   victim. 

From  the  stupor  of  deep  thought  into  which  he  had 
glided  with  the  letter  in  his  hand,  he  was  awakened 
by  the  clatter  of  the  bell.  He  glanced  from  the  win- 
dow; and,  conceive  his  horror  and  surprise  when  he 
beheld,  clustered  on  the  steps,  in  the  front  garden  and 
on   the    pavement    of    the    street,   a    formidable    posse  of 


84  U/orl^s    of   Robert    Couis   Steuenson 

police!  He  started  to  the  full  possession  of  his  powers 
and  courage.  Escape,  and  escape  at  any  cost,  was  the 
one  idea  that  possessed  him.  Swiftly  and  silently  he 
redescended  the  creaking  stairs;  he  was  already  in  the 
passage  when  a  second  and  more  imperious  summons 
from  the  door  awoke  the  echoes  of  the  empty  hcuse; 
nor  had  the  bell  ceased  to  jangle  before  he  had  bestridden 
the  window-sill  of  the  parlor  and  was  lowering  himself 
into  the  garden.  His  coat  was  hooked  upon  the  iron 
flower  basket;  for  a  moment  he  hung  dependent  heels 
and  head  below;  and  then,  with  the  noise  of  rending 
cloth  and  followed  by  several  pots,  he  dropped  upon 
the  sod.  Once  more  the  bell  was  rung,  and  now  with 
furious  and  repeated  peals.  The  desperate  Challoner 
turned  his  eyes  on  every  side.  They  fell  upon  the 
ladder,  and  he  ran  to  it,  and  with  strenuous  but  un- 
availing effort  sought  to  raise  it  from  the  ground.  Sud- 
denly the  weight,  which  was  thus  resisting  his  whole 
strength,  began  to  lighten  in  his  hands;  the  ladder, 
like  a  thing  of  life,  reared  its  bulk  from  off  the  sod; 
and  Challoner,  leaping  back  with  a  cry  of  almost  super- 
stitious terror,  beheld  the  whole  structure  mount,  foot 
by  foot,  against  the  face  of  the  retaining  wall.  At  the 
same  time,  two  heads  were  dimly  visible  above  the 
parapet,  and  he  was  hailed  by  a  guarded  whistle.  Some- 
thing in  its  modulation  recalled,  like  an  echo,  the 
whistle  of  the  man  with  the  chin-beard. 

Had  he  chanced  upon  a  means  of  escape  prepared 
beforehand,  by  those  very  miscreants,  whose  messenger 
and  gull  he  had  become?  Was  this,  indeed,  a  means 
of  safety,  or  but  the  starting-point  of  further  complica- 
tion and  disaster?    He  paused  not  to  reflect.     Scarce  was 


Xl?e   Dynamiter  85 

the  ladder  reared  to  its  full  length  than  he  had  sprung 
already  on  the  rounds;  hand  over  hand,  swift  as  an 
ape,  he  scaled  the  tottering  stairway.  Strong  arms  re- 
ceived, embraced,  and  helped  him;  he  was  lifted  and 
set  once  more  upon  the  earth;  and  with  the  spasm  of 
his  alarm  yet  unsubsided,  found  himself,  in  the  com- 
pany of  two  rough-lookirjg  men,  in  the  paved  back  yard 
of  one  of  the  tall  houses  that  crowned  the  summit  of 
the  hill.  Meanwhile,  from  below,  the  note  of  the  bell 
had  been  succeeded  by  the  sound  of  vigorous  and  re- 
doubling blows. 

"Are  you  all  out?"  asked  one  of  his  companions; 
and  as  soon  as  he  had  babbled  an  answer  in  the  affirm- 
ative, the  rope  was  cut  from  the  top  round,  and  the 
ladder  thrust  roughly  back  into  the  garden,  where  it 
fell  and  broke  with  clattering  reverberations.  Its  fall 
was  hailed  with  many  broken  cries;  for  the  whole  of 
Richard  Street  was  now  in  high  emotion,  the  people 
crowding  to  the  windows  or  clambering  on  the  garden 
walls.  The  same  man  who  had  already  addressed 
Challoner  seized  him  by  the  arm;  whisked  him  through 
the  basement  of  the  house  and  across  the  street  upon 
the  other  side;  and  before  the  unfortunate  adventurer 
had  time  to  realize  his  situation,  a  door  was  opened 
and  he  was    thrust    into    a    low  and   dark  compartment. 

"Bedad,"  observed  his  guide,  "there  was  no  time  to 
lose.     Is   M'Guire    gone,   or  was  it    you    that  whistled?" 

"M'Guire  is  gone,"   said    Challoner. 

The  guide  now  struck  a  light.  "Ah,"  said  he,  "this 
will  never  do.  You  dare  not  go  upon  the  streets  in 
such  a  figure.  "Wait  quietly  here  and  I  will  bring  you 
something  decent." 


86  U/orKs  of  Robert  Coins  Steueoson 

With  that  the  man  was  gone,  and  Challoner,  his 
attention  thus  rudely  awakened,  began  ruefully  to  con- 
sider the  havoc  that  had  been  worked  in  his  attire. 
His  hat  was  gone;  his  trousers  were  cruelly  ripped; 
and  the  best  part  of  one  tail  of  his  very  elegant  frock- 
coat  had  been  left  hanging  from  the  iron  crockets  of 
the  window.  He  had  scarce  had  time  to  measure  these 
disasters  when  his  host  reentered  the  apartment  and 
proceeded,  without  a  word,  to  envelope  the  refined  and 
urbane  Challoner  in  a  long  ulster  of  the  cheapest  ma- 
terial and  of  a  pattern  so  gross  and  vulgar  that  his 
spirit  sickened  at  the  sight.  This  calumnious  disguise 
was  crowned  and  completed  by  a  soft  felt  bat  of  the 
Tyrolese  design  and  several  sizes  too  small.  At  another 
moment  Challoner  would  simply  have  refused  to  issue 
forth  upon  the  world  thus  travestied;  but  the  desire  to 
escape  from  Glasgow  was  now  too  strongly  and  too 
exclusively  impressed  upon  his  mind.  With  one  haggard 
glance  at  the  spotted  tails  of  his  new  coat,  he  inquired 
what  was  to  pay  for  this  accouterment.  The  man  as- 
sured him  that  the  whole  expense  was  easily  met  from 
funds  in  his  possession,  and  begged  him,  instead  of 
wasting  time,  to  make  his  best  speed  out  of  the  neigh- 
borhood. 

The  young  man  was  not  loth  to  take  the  hint. 
True  to  his  usual  courtesy,  he  thanked  the  speaker 
and  complimented  him  upon  his  taste  in  greatcoats; 
and  leaving  the  man  somewhat  abashed  by  these  re- 
marks and  the  manner  of  their  delivery,  he  hurried 
forth  into  the  lamp-lighted  city.  The  last  train  was 
gone  ere,  after  many  deviations,  he  had  reached  the 
terminus.     Attired   as  he  was  he  dared  not  present  him- 


Tbe    Dynamiter  87 

self  at  any  reputable  inn;  and  he  felt  keenly  that  the 
unassuming  dignity  of  his  demeanor  would  serve  to 
attract  attention,  perhaps  mirth,  and  possibly  suspicion, 
in  any  humbler  hostlery.  He  was  thus  condemned  to 
pass  the  solemn  and  uneventful  hours  of  a  whole  night 
in  pacing  the  streets  of  Glasgow;  supperless;  a  figure 
of  fun  for  all  beholders;  waiting  the  dawn,  with  hope 
indeed,  but  with  unconquerable  shrinkings;  and  above 
all  things,  filled  with  a  profound  sense  of  the  folly  and 
weakness  of  his  conduct.  It  may  be  conceived  with 
what  curses  he  assailed  the  memory  of  the  fair  narra- 
tor of  Hyde  Park;  her  parting  laughter  rang  in  his 
ears  all  night  with  damning  mockery  and  iteration;  and 
when  he  could  spare  a  thought  from  this  chief  artificer 
of  his  confusion,  it  was  to  expend  his  wrath  on  Somer- 
set and  the  career  of  the  amateur  detective.  With  the 
coming  of  day,  he  found  in  a  shy  milk-shop  the  means 
to  appease  his  hunger.  There  were  still  many  hours  to 
wait  before  the  departure  of  the  south  express;  these 
he  passed  wandering  with  indescribable  fatigue  in  the 
obscurer  by-streets  of  the  city;  and  at  length  slipped 
quietly  into  the  station  and  took  his  place  in  the  dark- 
est corner  of  a  third-class  carriage.  Here,  all  day  long, 
he  jolted  on  the  bare  boards,  distressed  by  heat  and 
continually  reawakened  from  uneasy  slumbers.  By  the 
half  return  ticket  in  his  purse,  he  was  entitled  to  make 
the  journey  on  the  easy  cushions  and  with  the  ample 
space  of  the  first-class;  but  alas!  in  his  absurd  attire 
he  durst  not  for  decency  commingle  with  his  equals;  and 
this  small  annoyance,  coming  last  in  such  a  series  of 
disasters,   cut   him   to  the  heart. 

That    night,    when,    in    his    Putney    lodging,    he    re- 


88  U/or^s   of   Robert   Couis   Stevenson 

viewed  the  expense,  anxiety,  and  weariness  of  his  adven- 
ture; when  he  beheld  the  ruins  of  his  last  good  trousers 
and  his  last  presentable  coat;  and  above  all,  when  his 
eye  by  any  chance  alighted  on  the  Tyrolese  hat  or  the 
degrading  ulster,  his  heart  would  overflow  with  bitter- 
ness, and  it  was  only  by  a  serious  call  on  his  philos- 
ophy  that    he    maintained    the    dignity  of    his    demeanor. 


SOMERSETS    ADVENTURE:      THE    SUPER- 
FLUOUS   MANSION 

Mr.  Paul  Somerset  was  a  young  gentleman  of  a 
lively  and  fiery  imagination,  with  very  small  capacity 
for  action.  He  was  one  who  lived  exclusively  in 
dreams  and  in  the  future:  the  creature  of  his  own 
theories,  and  an  actor  in  his  own  romances.  From  the 
cigar  divan  he  proceeded  to  parade  the  streets,  still 
heated  with  the  fire  of  his  eloquence,  and  scouting  upon 
every  side  for  the  offer  of  some  fortunate  adventure. 
In  the  continual  stream  of  passers-by,  on  the  sealed 
fronts  of  houses,  on  the  posters  that  covered  the  hoard- 
ings, and  in  every  lineament  and  throb  of  the  great 
city  he  saw  a  mysterious  and  hopeful  hieroglyph.  But 
although  the  elements  of  adventure  were  streaming  by 
him  as  thick  as  drops  of  water  in  the  Thames,  it  was 
in  vain  that,  now  with  a  beseeching,  now  with  some- 
thing of  a  braggadocio  air,  he  courted  and  provoked 
the  notice  of  the  passengers;  in  vain  that,  putting  for- 
tune to  the  touch,  he  even  thrust  himself  into  the  way 
and   came  into    direct    collision   with    those    of    the  more 


"Tfye    Dynamiter  89 

promising  demeanor.  Persons  brimful  of  secrets,  persons 
pining  for  affection,  persons  perishing  for  lack  of  help 
or  counsel,  he  was  sure  he  could  perceive  on  every 
side;  but  by  some  contrariety  of  fortune,  each  passed 
upon  his  way  without  remarking  the  young  gentleman, 
and  went  further  (surely  to  fare  worse!)  in  quest  of 
the  confidant,  the  friend,  or  the  adviser.  To  thousands 
he  must  have  turned  an  appealing  countenance,  and  yet 
not  one  regarded  him. 

A  light  dinner,  eaten  to  the  accompaniment  of  his 
impetuous  aspirations,  broke  in  upon  the  series  of  his 
attempts  on  fortune;  and  when  he  returned  to  the  task, 
the  lamps  were  already  lighted,  and  the  nocturnal  crowd 
was  dense  upon  the  pavement.  Before  a  certain  res- 
taurant, whose  name  will  readily  occur  to  any  student 
of  our  Babylon,  people  were  already  packed  so  closely 
that  passage  had  grown  difficult;  and  Somerset,  stand- 
ing in  the  kennel,  watched,  with  a  hope  that  was  begin- 
ning to  grow  somewhat  weary,  the  faces  and  the  man- 
ners of  the  crowd.  Suddenly  he  was  startled  by  a 
gentle  touch  upon  the  shoulder,  and  facing  about,  he 
was  aware  of  a  very  plain  and  elegant  brougham, 
drawn  by  a  pair  of  powerful  horses,  and  driven  by  a 
man  in  sober  livery.  There  were  no  arms  upon  the 
panel;  the  window  was  open,  but  the  interior  was  ob. 
scure;  the  driver  yawned  behind  his  palm;  and  the 
young  man  was  already  beginning  to  suppose  himself 
the  dupe  of  his  own  fancy,  when  a  hand,  no  larger 
than  a  child's  and  smoothly  gloved  in  white,  appeared 
in  a  corner  of  the  window  and  privily  beckoned  him  to 
approach.  He  did  so,  and  looked  in.  The  carriage 
was    occupied     by    a    single    small    and    dainty    figure, 


90  U/orKs  of  Robert  Couis  Steuensoo 

swathed  head  and  shoulders  in  impenetrable  folds  of 
white  lace;  and  a  voice,  speaking  low  and  silvery,  ad- 
dressed  him  in  these  words: 

"Open  the  door  and  get  in." 

"It  must  be,"  thought  the  young  man  with  an 
almost  unbearable  thrill,  "it  must  be  that  duchess  at 
last!"  Yet,  although  the  moment  was  one  to  which  he 
had  long  looked  forward,  it  was  with  a  certain  share  of 
alarm  that  he  opened  the  door,  and,  mounting  into 
the  brougham,  took  his  seat  beside  the  lady  of  the 
lace.  Whether  or  no  she  had  touched  a  spring,  or 
given  some  other  signal,  the  young  man  had  hardly 
closed  the  door  before  the  carriage,  with  considerable 
swiftness,  and  with  a  very  luxurious  and  easy  move- 
ment on  its  springs,  turned  and  began  to 'drive  toward 
the  west. 

Somerset,  as  I  have  \vritten,  was  not  unprepared;  it 
had  long  been  his  particular  pleasure  to  rehearse  his 
conduct  in  the  most  unlikely  situations;  and  this, 
among  others,  of  the  patrician  ravisher,  was  one  he 
had  familiarly  studied.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  how- 
ever, he  could  find  no  apposite  remark;  and  as  the 
lady,  on  her  side,  vouchsafed  no  further  sign,  they 
continued  to  drive  in  silence  through  the  streets.  Except 
for  alternate  flashes  from  the  passing  lamps,  the  car- 
riage was  plunged  in  obscurity;  and  beyond  the  fact 
that  the  fittings  were  luxurious,  and  that  the  lady  was 
singularly  small  and  slender  in  person,  and,  all  but 
one  gloved  hand,  still  swathed  in  her  costly  veil,  the 
young  man  could  decipher  no  detail  of  an  inspiring  nat- 
ure. The  suspense  began  to  grow  unbearable.  Twice  he 
cleared   his  throat,  and  twice  the  whole  resources  of  the 


Jtye    Dynamiter  91 

language  failed  him.  In  similar  scenes,  when  he  had 
forecast  them  on  the  theater  of  fancy,  his  presence  of 
mind  had  always  been  complete,  his  eloquence  remark- 
able; and  at  this  disparity  between  the  rehearsal  and 
the  performance  he  began  to  be  seized  with  a  panic  of 
apprehension.  Here,  on  the  very  threshold  of  adventure, 
suppose  him  ignominiously  to  fail;  suppose  that  after 
ten,  twenty,  or  sixty  seconds  of  still  uninterrupted 
silence,  the  lady  should  touch  the  check-string  and  re- 
deposit  him,  weighed  and  found  wanting,  on  the  com- 
mon street!  Thousands  of  persons  of  no  mind  at  all, 
he  reasoned,  would  be  found  more  equal  to  the  part; 
could,  that  very  instant,  by  some  decisive  step,  prove 
the  lady's  choice  to  have  been  well  inspired,  and  put 
a  stop  to  this  intolerale  silence. 

His  eye,  at  this  point,  lighted  on  the  hand.  It  was 
better  to  fall  by  desperate  councils  than  to  continue  as 
he  was;  and  with  one  tremulous  swoop  he  pounced  on 
the  gloved  fingers  and  drew  them  to  himself.  One 
overt  step,  it  had  appeared  to  him,  would  dissolve  the 
spell  of  his  embarrassment;  in  act,  he  found  it  other- 
wise: he  found  himself  no  less  incapable  of  speech  or 
further  progress;  and  with  the  lady's  hand  in  his,  sat 
helpless.  But  worse  was  in  store.  A  peculiar  quiver- 
ing began  to  agitate  the  form  of  his  companion;  the 
hand  that  lay  unresistingly  in  Somerset's  trembled  as 
with  ague;  and  presently  there  broke  forth,  in  the 
shadow  of  the  carriage,  the  bubbling  and  musical 
sound  of  laughter,  resisted  but  triumphant.  The  young 
man  dropped  his  prize;  had  it  been  possible,  he  would 
have  bounded  from  the  carriage.  The  lady,  meanwhile, 
lying  back   upon   the  cushions,    passed    on    from    trill    to 


92  U/orKs    of   Robert    Couis    Steuei)son 

trill  of  the  most  heartfelt,  high-pitched,  clear  and  fairy- 
sounding  merriment. 

"You  must  not  be  offended,"  she  said  at  last,  catch- 
ing an  opportunity  between  two  paroxysms.  "If  you 
have  been  mistaken  in  the  warmth  of  your  attentions, 
the  fault  is  solely  mine;  it  does  not  flow  from  your  pre- 
sumption, but  from  my  eccentric  manner  of  recruiting 
friends;  and,  believe  me,  I  am  the  last  person  in  the 
world  to  think  the  worst  of  a  young  man  for  showing 
spirit.  As  for  to-night,  it  is  my  intention  to  entertain 
you  to  a  little  supper;  and  if  I  shall  continue  to  be  as 
much  pleased  with  your  manners  as  I  was  taken  with 
your  face,  I  may  perhaps  end  by  making  you  an  ad- 
vantageous offer." 

Somerset  sought  in  vain  to  find  some  form  of  an- 
swer, but  his  discomfiture  had  been  too  recent  and 
complete. 

"Come,"  returned  the  lady,  "we  must  have  no  dis- 
play of  temper;  that  is  for  me  the  one  disqualifying 
fault ;  and  as  I  perceive  we  are  drawing  near  our  des- 
tination, I  shall  ask  you  to  descend  and  offer  me  your 
arm." 

Indeed,  at  that  very  moment  the  carriage  drew  up 
before  a  stately  and  severe  mansion  in  a  spacious 
square;  and  Somerset,  who  was  possessed  of  an  excel- 
lent temper,  with  the  best  grace  in  the  world  assisted 
the  lady  to  alight.  The  door  was  opened  by  an  old 
woman  of  a  grim  appearance,  who  ushered  the  pair  into 
a  dining-room  somewhat  dimly  lighted,  but  already  laid 
for  supper,  and  occupied  by  a  prodigious  company  of 
large  and  valuable  cats.  Here,  as  soon  as  they  were 
alone,   the    lady  divested    herself    of    the    lace    in  which 


71?e    Dynamiter  93 

she  was  infolded;  and  Somerset  was  relieved  to  find, 
that  although  still  bearing  the  traces  of  great  beauty, 
and  still  distinguished  by  the  fire  and  color  of  her  eye, 
her  hair  was  of  a  silvery  whiteness  and  her  face  lined 
with   years. 

"And  now,  mon  preux,"  said  the  old  lady,  nodding 
at  him  with  a  quaint  gayety,  "you  perceive  that  I  am 
no  longer  in  my  first  youth.  You  will  soon  find  that 
I  am  all   the  better  company  for  that." 

As  she  spoke,  the  maid  re-entered  the  apartment* 
with  a  light  but  tasteful  supper.  They  sat  down,  ac- 
cordingly, to  table,  the  cats  with  savage  pantomime 
surrounding  the-  old  lady's'  chair,  and  what  with  the 
excellence  of  the  meal  and  the  gayety  of  his  enter- 
tainer, Somerset  was  soon  completely  at  his  ease.  When 
they  had  well  eaten  and  drunk,  the  old  lady  leaned 
back  in  her  chair,  and  taking  a  cat  upon  her  lap, 
subjected  her  guest  to  a  prolonged  but  evidently  mirth- 
ful  scrutiny. 

"I  fear,  madam,"  said  Someset,  "that  my  manners 
have  not  risen  to  the  height  of  your  preconceived 
opinion." 

"My  dear  young  man,"  she  replied,  "you  were 
never  more  mistaken  in  your  life.  I  find  you  charm- 
ing, and  you  may  very  well  have  lighted  on  a  fairy 
godmother.  I  am  not  one  of  those  who  are  given  to 
change  their  opinions,  and  short  of  substantial  demerit, 
those  who  have  once  gained  my  favor  continue  to  en- 
joy it;  but  I  have  a  singular  swiftness  of  decision, 
read  my  fellow  men  and  women  with  a  glance,  and 
have  acted  throughout  life  on  first  impressions.  Yours, 
as  I  tell    you,   has    been    favorable:     and    if,   as    I  sup- 


94  U/orKs   of   H°bert   Couij   Steuer/jon 

pose,  you  are  a  young  fellow  of  somewhat  idle  habits, 
I  think  it  not  improbable  that  we  may  strike  a  bar- 
gain." 

"Ah,  madam,"  returned  Someset,  "you  have  divined 
my  situation.  1  am  a  man  of  birth,  parts  and  breed- 
ing; excellent  company,  or  at  least  so  I  find  myself; 
but  by  a  peculiar  iniquity  of  fate,  destitute  alike  of 
trade  or  money.  I  was,  indeed,  this  evening  upon 
the  quest  of  an  adventure,  resolved  to  close  with  any 
offer  of  interest,  emolument  or  pleasure;  and  your  sum- 
mons, which  I  profess  I  am  still  at  some  loss  to  un- 
derstand, jumped  naturally  with  the  inclination  of  my 
mind.  Call  it,  if  you  will,-  impudence;  I  am  here,  at 
least,  prepared  for  any  proposition  you  can  find  it  in 
your  heart  to  make,  and  resolutely  determined  to 
accept." 

"You  express  yourself  very  well,"  replied  the  old 
lady,  "and  are  certainly  a  droll  and  curious  young 
man.  I  should  not  care  to  affirm  that  you  were  sane, 
for  I  have  never  found  any  one  entirely  so  besides 
myself;  but  at  least  the  nature  of  your  madness  enter- 
tains me,  and  I  will  reward  you  with  some  description 
of  my  character  and  life." 

Thereupon  the  old  lady,  still  fondling  the  cat  upon 
her  lap,   proceeded  to  narrate    the    following  particulars. 


NARRATIVE  OF  THE  SPIRITED   OLD  LADY 

I  was  the  eldest  daughter  of  the  Reverend   Bernard 
Fanshawe,    who    held    a   valuable    living    in    the    diocese 


Jf?e   Dynamiter  95 

of  Bath  and  Wells.  Our  family,  a*  very  large  one, 
was  noted  for  a  sprightly  and  incisive  wit,  and  came 
of  a  good  old  stock  where  beauty  was  an  heirloom. 
In  Christian  grace  of  character  we  were  unhappily  de- 
ficient. From  my  earliest  years  I  saw  and  deplored 
the  defects  of  those  relatives  whose  age  and  position 
should  have  enabled  them  to  conquer  my  esteem ;  and 
while  I  was  yet  a  child,  my  father  married  a  second 
wife,  in  whom  (strange  to  say)  the  Fanshawe  failings 
were  exaggerated  to  a  monstrous  and  almost  laughable 
degree.  "Whatever  may  be  said  against  me,  it  cannot 
be  denied  I  was  a  pattern  daughter;  but  it  was  in 
vain  that,  with  .the  most  touching  patience,  I  submitted 
to  my  stepmother's  demands;  and  from  the  hour  she 
entered  my  father's  house,  I  may  say  that  I  met  with 
nothing  but  injustice  and  ingratitude. 

I  stood  not  alone,  however,  in  the  sweetness  of  my 
disposition;  for  one  other  of  the  family  besides  myself 
was  free  from  any  violence  of  character.  Before  I  had 
reached  the  age  of  sixteen,  this  cousin,  John  by  name, 
had  conceived  for  me  a  sincere  but  silent  passion;  and 
although  the  poor  lad  was  too  timid  to  hint  at  the 
nature  of  his  feelings,  I  had  soon  divined  and  begun 
to  share  them.  For  some  days  I  pondered  on  the  odd 
situation  created  for  me  by  the  bashfulness  of  my  ad- 
mirer: and  at  length,  perceiving  that  he  began,  in  his 
distress,  rather  to  avoid  than  seek  my  company,  I  de- 
termined to  take  the  matter  into  my  own  hands.  Find- 
ing him  alone  in  a  retired  part  of  the  rectory  garden, 
I  told  him  that  I  had  divined  his  amiable  secret;  that 
I  knew  with  what  disfavor  our  union  was  sure  to  be 
regarded;     and    that,     under    the    circumstances,    I    was 


96  U/orKs   of   Robert   Couis   Steuensor; 

prepared  to  flee  With  him  at  once.  Poor  John  was 
literally  paralyzed  with  joy;  such  was  the  force  of  his 
emotions,  that  he  could  find  no  words  in  which  to 
thank  me;  and  that  I,  seeing  him  thus  helpless,  was 
obliged  to  arrange,  myself,  the  details  of  our  flight, 
and  of  the  stolen  marriage  which  was  immediately  to 
crown  it.  John  had  been  at  that  time  projecting  a 
visit  to  the  metropolis.  In  this  I  bade  him  persevere, 
and  promised  on  the  following  day  to  join  him  at  the 
Tavistock  Hotel. 

True,  on  my  side,  to  every  detail  of  our  arrange- 
ment, I  arose,  on  the  day  in  question,  before  the  serv- 
ants, packed  a  few  necessaries  in  a  bag,  took  with  me 
the  little  money  I  possessed,  and  bade  farewell  forever 
to  the  rectory.  I  walked  with  good  spirits  to  a  town 
some  thirty  miles  from  home,  and  was  set  down  the 
next  morning  in  this  great  city  of  London.  As  I 
walked  from  the  coach-office  to  the  hotel,  I  could  not 
help  exulting  in  the  pleasant  change  that  had  befallen 
me;  beholding,  meanwhile,  with  innocent  delight,  the 
traffic  of  the  streets,  and  depicting,  in  all  the  colors  of 
fancy,  the  reception  that  awaited  me  from  John.  But 
alas!  when  I  inquired  for  Mr.  Fanshawe,  the  porter 
assured  me  there  was  no  such  gentleman  among  the 
guests.  By  what  channel  our  secret  had  leaked  out,  or 
what  pressure  had  been  brought  to  bear  on  the  too 
facile  John,  I  could  never  fathom.  Enough  that  my 
family  had  triumphed;  that  I  found  myself  alone  in 
London,  tender  in  years,  smarting  under  the  most  sen- 
sible mortification,  and  by  every  sentiment  of  pride  and 
self-respect   debarred  forever  from   my   father's   house. 

I    rose    under    the    blow,    and    found    lodgings  in  the 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  97 

neighborhood  of  Euston  Road,  where,  for  the  first  time 
m  my  life,  I  tasted  the  joys  of  independence.  Three 
days  afterward,  an  advertisement  in  the  "Times"  di- 
rected me  to  the  office  of  a  solicitor  whom  I  knew  to 
be  in  my  father's  confidence.  There  I  was  given  the 
promise  of  a  very  moderate  allowance,  and  a  distinct 
intimation  that  I  must  never  look  to  be  received  at 
home.  I  could  not  but  resent  so  cruel  a  desertion,  and 
I  told  the  lawyer  it  was  a  meeting  I  desired  as  little 
as  themselves.  He  smiled  at  my  courageous  spirit,  paid 
me  the  first  quarter  of  my  income,  and  gave  me  the 
remainder  of  my  personal  effects,  which  had  been  sent 
to  me  under  his  care,  in  a  couple  of  rather  ponderous 
boxes.  With  these  I  returned  in  triumph  to  my  lodg- 
ings more  content  with  my  position  than  I  should  have 
thought  possible  a  week  before  and  fully  determined  to 
make  the   best   of  the  future. 

All  went  well  for  several  months;  and,  indeed,  it 
was  my  own  fault  alone  that  ended  this  pleasant  and 
secluded  episode  of  life.  I  have,  I  must  confess,  the 
fatal  trick  of  spoiling  my  inferiors.  My  landlady,  to 
whom  I  had  as  usual  been  overkind,  impertinently  called 
me  in  fault  for  some  particular  too  small  to  mention; 
and  I,  annoyed  that  I  had  allowed  her  the  freedom 
upon  which  she  thus  presumed,  ordered  her  to  leave 
my  presence.  She  stood  a  moment  dumb,  and  then, 
recalling  her  self-possession,  "Your  bill,"  said  she, 
"shall  be  ready  this  evening,  and  to-morrow,  madam, 
you  shall  leave  my  house.  See,"  she  added,  "that  you 
are  able  to  pay  what  you  owe  me;  for  if  I  do  not 
receive    the    uttermost    farthing,    no   box    of    yours    shall 

pass  my  threshold." 

'7-  Vol.  XIV. 


98  U/orK5   of  Robert   Couls   Steuensoo 

I  was  confounded  at  her  audacity,  but  as  a  whole 
quarter's  income  was  due  to  me,  not  otherwise  affected 
by  the  threat.  That  afternoon,  as  I  left  the  solicitor's 
door,  carrying  in  one  hand,  and  done  up  in  a  paper 
parcel,  the  whole  amount  of  my  fortune,  there  befell 
me  one  of  those  decisive  incidents  that  sometimes  shape 
a  life.  The  lawyer's  office  was  situate  in  a  street  that 
opened  at  the  upper  end  upon  the  Strand  and  was 
closed  at  the  lower,  at  the  time  of  which  I  speak,  by 
a  row  of  iron  railings  looking  on  the  Thames.  Down 
this  street,  then,  I  beheld  my  stepmother  advancing  to 
meet  me,  and  doubtless  bound  to  the  very  house  I  had 
just  left.  She  was  attended  by  a  maid  whose  face  was 
new  to  me;  but  her  own  was  too  clearly  printed  on 
my  memory;  and  the  sight  of  it,  even  from  a  dis- 
tance, filled  me  with  generous  indignation.  Flight  was 
impossible.  There  was  nothing  left  but  to  retreat 
against  the  railing,  and  with  my  back  turned  to  the 
street,  pretend  to  be  admiring  the  barges  on  the  river 
or   the  chimneys   of   transpontine   London. 

I  was  still  standing,  and  had  not  yet  fully  mastered 
the  turbulence  of  my  emotions,  when  a  voice  at  my 
elbow  addressed  me  with  a  trivial  question.  It  was 
the  maid  whom  my  stepmother,  with  characteristic 
hardness,  bad  left  to  await  her  on  the  street,  while 
she  transacted  her  business  with  the  family  solicitor. 
The  girl  did  not  know  who  I  was;  the  opportunity 
too  golden  to.be  lost;  and  I  was  soon  hearing  the 
latest  news'  of  my  father's  rectory  and  parish.  It  did 
not  surprise  me  to  find  that  she  detested  her  employ- 
ers; and  yet  the  terms  in  which  she  spoke  of  them 
were    hard  to   bear,    hard    to    let    pass    unchallenged.      I 


Tbe   Dynamiter  99 

heard  them,  however,  without  dissent,  for  my  self-com- 
mand is  wonderful;  and  we  might  have  parted  as  we 
met  had  she  not  proceeded,  in  an  evil  hour,  to  criticise 
the  rector's  missing  daughter,  and  with  the  most  shock- 
ing perversions  to  narrate  the  story  of  her  flight.  My 
nature  is  so  essentially  generous  that  I  can  never  pause 
to  reason.  I  flung  up  my  hand  sharply,  by  way,  as 
well  as  I  remember,  of  indignant  protest;  and,  in  the 
act,  the  packet  slipped  from  my  fingers,  glanced  be- 
tween the  railings,  and  fell  and  sunk  in  the  river.  I 
stood  for  a  moment  petrified,  and  then,  struck  by  the 
drollery  of  the  incident,  gave  way  to  peals  of  laughter. 
I  was  still  laughing  when  my  stepmother  reappeared, 
and  the  maid,  who  doubtless  considered  me  insane,  ran 
off  to  join  her;  nor  had  I  yet  recovered  my  gravity 
when  I  presented  myself  before  the  lawyer  to  solicit  a 
fresh  advance.  His  answer  made  me  serious  enough, 
for  it  was  a  flat  refusal;  and  it  was  not  until  I  had 
besought  him  even  with  tears,  that  he  consented  to 
lend  me  ten  pounds  from  his  own  pocket.  "I  am  a 
poor  man,"  said  he,  "and  you  must  look  for  nothing 
further  at  my  hands." 

The  landlady  met  me  at  the  door.  "Here,  madam," 
said  she,  with  a  courtesy  insolently  low,  "here  is  my 
bill.     Would   it  inconvenience  you  to  settle  it  at  once?" 

"You  shall  be  paid,  madam,"  said  I,  "in  the  morn- 
ing, in  the  proper  course."  And  I  took  the  paper  with 
a  very  high   air,   but  inwardly  quaking. 

I  had  no  sooner  looked  at  it  than  I  perceived  my- 
self to  be  lost.  I  had  been  short  of  money  and  had 
allowed  my  debt  to  mount;  and  it  had  now  reached 
the  sum,    which   I   shall  never  forget,   of    twelve  pounds 


100  U/orK5   of  Robert   Couis   Steuepsop 

thirteen  shillings  and  fourpence  halfpenny.  All  evening 
I  sat  by  the  fire  considering  my  situation.  I  could  not 
pay  the  bill;  my  landlady  would  not  suffer  me  to  re- 
move my  boxes;  and  without  either  baggage  or  money, 
how  was  I  to  find  another  lodging?  For  three  months, 
unless  I  could  invent  some  remedy,  I  was  condemned 
to  be  without  a  roof  and  without  a  penny.  It  can 
surprise  no  one  that  I  decided  on  immediate  flight;  but 
even  here  I  was  confronted  by  a  difficulty,  for  I  had 
no  sooner  packed  my  boxes  than  I  found  I  was  not 
strong  enough   to  move,   far  less  to  carry  them. 

In  this  strait  I  did  not  hesitate  a  moment,  but 
throwing  on  a  shawl  and  bonnet,  and  covering  my  face 
with  a  thick  veil,  I  betook  myself  to  that  great  bazaar 
of  dangerous  and  smiling  chances,  the  pavement  of  the 
city.  It  was  already  late  at  night,  aDd  the  weather 
being  wet  and  windy,  there  were  few  abroad  besides 
policemen.  These,  on  my  present  mission,  I  had  wit 
enough  to  know  for  enemies;  and  wherever  I  perceived 
their  moving  lanterns,  I  made  haste  to  turn  aside  and 
choose  another  thoroughfare.  A  few  miserable  women 
still  walked  the  pavement;  here  and  there  were  young 
fellows  returning  drunk,  or  ruffians  of  the  lowest  class 
lurking  in  the  mouths  of  alleys;  but  of  any  one  to 
whom  I  might  appeal  in  my  distress,  I  began  almost 
to  despair. 

At  last,  at  the  corner  of  a  street,  I  ran  into  the 
arms  of  one  who  was  evidently  a  gentleman,  and  who, 
in  all  his  appointments,  from  his  furred  greatcoat  to 
the  fine  cigar  which  he  was  smoking,  comfortably 
breathed  of  wealth.  Much  as  my  face  has  changed 
from  its  original  beauty,  I  still  retain   (or  so  I  tell  my- 


Jl?e   Dypamiter  101 

self)  some  traces  of  the  youthful  lightness  of  my  figure. 
Even  veiled  as  I  then  was,  I  could  perceive  the  gen- 
tleman was  struck  by  my  appearance;  and  this  em- 
boldened  me  for  my   adventure. 

"Sir,"  said  I  with  a  quickly  beating  heart,  "are 
you  one  in   whom   a   lady  can  confide?" 

"Why,  my  dear,"  said  he,  removing  his  cigar,  "that 
depends  on  circumstances.     If  you  will  raise  your  veil — " 

"Sir,"  I  interrupted,  "let  there  be  no  mistake.  I 
ask  you,  as  a  gentleman,  to  serve  me,  but  I  offer  no 
reward." 

"That  is  frank,"  said  he,  "but  hardly  tempting. 
And  what,  may  I  inquire,  is  the  nature  of  the  service?" 

But  I  knew  well  enough  it  was  not  my  interest  to 
tell  him  on  so  short  an  interview.  "If  you  will  accom- 
pany me,"  said  I,  "to  a  house  not  far  from  here,  you 
can   see   for  yourself." 

He  looked  at  me  a  while  with  hesitating  eyes;  and 
then,  tossing  away  his  cigar,  which  was  not  yet  a 
quarter  smoked,  "Here  goes!"  said  he,  and  with  perfect 
politeness  offered  me  his  arm.  I  was  wise  enough  to 
take  it;  to  prolong  our  walk  as  far  as  possible,  by 
more  than  one  excursion  from  the  shortest  line;  and  to 
beguile  the  way  with  that  sort  of  conversation  which 
should  prove  to  him  indubitably  from  what  station  in 
society  I  sprang.  By  the  time  we  reached  the  door  of 
my  lodging  I  felt  sure  I  had  confirmed  his  interest, 
and  might  venture,  before  I  turned  the  pass-key,  to 
beseech  him  to  moderate  his  voice  and  to  tread  softly. 
He  promised  to  obey  me;  and  I  admitted  him  into  the 
passage  and  thence  into  my  sitting-room,  which  was 
fortunately  next  the   door. 


102  U/orKs  of  Robert  Couis  Steuepsoij 

"And  now,"  said  he,  when  with  trembling  fingers  I 
had  lighted  a  candle,  "what  is  the  meaning  of  all 
this?" 

"I  wish  you,"  said  I,  speaking  with  great  difficulty, 
"to  help  me  out  with  these  boxes — and  I  wish  nobody 
to  know." 

He  took  up  the  candle.  "And  I  wish  to  see  your 
face,"   he  said. 

I  turned  back  my  veil  without  a  word,  and  looked 
at  him  with  every  appearance  of  resolve  that  I  could 
summon  up.  For  some  time  he  gazed  into  my  face, 
still  holding  up  the  candle.  "Well,"  said  he  at  last, 
"and   where  do  you   wish  them  taken?" 

I  knew  that  I  had  gained  my  point;  and  it  was 
with  a  tremor  in  my  voice  that  I  replied,  "I  had 
thought  we  might  carry  them  between  us  to  the  corner 
of  Euston  Road,"  said  I,  "where,  even  at  this  late 
hour,    we   may  still  find   a  cab." 

"Very  good,"  was  his  reply;  and  he  immediately 
hoisted  the  heavier  of  my  trunks  upon  his  shoulder, 
and  taking  one  handle  of  the  second,  signed  to  me  to 
help  him  at  the  other  end.  In  this  order  we  made 
good  our  retreat  from  the  house,  and  without  the  least 
adventure,  drew  pretty  near  to  the  corner  of  Euston 
Road.  Before  a  house,  where  there  was  a  light  still 
burning,  my  companion  paused.  "Let  us  here,"  said 
he,  "set  down  our  boxes,  while  we  go  forward  to  the 
end  of  the  street  in  quest  of  a  cab.  By  doing  so,  we 
can  still  keep  an  eye  upon  their  safety;  and  we  avoid 
the  very  extraordinary  figure  we  should  otherwise  pre- 
sent— a  young  man,  a  young  lady,  and  a  mass  of  bag- 
gage,  standing  castaway   at    midnight  on   the    streets    of 


Tl?e   Dynamiter  103 

London."  So  it  was  done,  and  the  event  proved  him 
to  be  wise;  for  long  before  there  was  any  word  of  a 
cab,  a  policeman  appeared  upon  the  scene,  turned  upon 
us  the  full  glare  of  his  lantern,  and  hung  suspiciously 
behind   us  in  a  doorway. 

"There  seem  to  be  no  cabs  about,  policeman,"  said 
my  champion,  with  affected  cheerfulness.  But  the  con- 
stable's answer  was  ungracious;  and  as  for  the  offer  of 
a  cigar,  with  which  this  rebuff  was  most  unwisely  fol- 
lowed up,  he  refused  it  pointblank,  and  without  the 
least  civility.  The  young  gentleman  looked  at  me  with 
a  warning  grimace,  and  there  we  continued  to  stand, 
on  the  edge  of  the  pavement,  in  the  beating  rain,  and 
with  the  policeman  still  silently  watching  our  move- 
ments  from   the  doorway. 

At  last,  and  after  a  delay  that  seemed  interminable, 
a  four-wheeler  appeared  lumbering  along  in  the  mud, 
and  was  instantly  hailed  by  my  companion.  "Just  pull 
up  here,  will  you?"  he  cried.  "We  have  some  baggage 
up  the  street." 

And  now  came  the  hitch  of  our  adventure;  for 
when  the  policeman,  still  closely  following  us,  beheld 
my  two  boxes  lying  in  the  rain,  he  arose  from  mere 
suspicion  to  a  kind  of  certitude  of  something  evil.  The 
light  in  the  house  had  been  extinguished;  the  whole 
frontage  of  the  street  was  dark;  there  was  nothing  to 
explain  the  presence  of  these  unguarded  trunks;  and  no 
two  innocent  people  were  ever,  I  believe,  detected  in 
such  questionable  circumstances. 

"Where  have  these  things  come  from?"  asked  the 
policeman,  flashing  his  light  full  into  my  companion's 
face. 


104  U/orKs   of   Robert   Couis   Steueoson 

"Why,  from  that  house  of  course,"  replied  the  young 
gentleman,    hastily  shouldering  a   trunk. 

The  policeman  whistled  and  turned  to  look  at  the 
dark  windows;  he  then  took  a  step  toward  the  door, 
as  though  to  knock,  a  course  which  had  infallibly  proved 
our  ruin;  but  seeing  us  already  hurrying  down  the 
street  under  our  double  burden,  thought  better  or  worse 
of  it,    and   followed  in  our   wake. 

"For  God's  sake,"  whispered  my  companion,  "tell 
me  where  to  drive  to." 

"Anywhere,"  I  replied,  with  anguish.  "I  have  no 
idea.     Anywhere  you  like." 

Thus  it  befell  that,  when  the  boxes  had  been  stowed 
and  I  had  already  entered  the  cab,  my  deliverer  called 
out  in  clear  tones  the  address  of  the  house  in  which 
we  are  now  seated.  The  policeman,  I  could  see,  was 
staggered.  This  neighborhood,  so  retired,  so  aristocratic, 
was  far  from  what  he  had  expected.  For  all  that,  he 
took  the  number,  and  spoke  for  a  few  seconds  and  with 
a  decided  manner,    in   the  cabman's  ear. 

"What  can  he  have  said?"  I  gasped,  as  soon  as 
the  cab  had  rolled  away. 

"I  can  very  well  imagine,"  replied  my  champion; 
"and  I  can  assure  you  that  you  are  now  condemned 
to  go  where  I  have  said;  for,  should  we  attempt  to 
change  our  destination  by  the  way,  the  jarvey  will  drive 
us  straight  to  a  police  office.  Let  me  compliment  you 
on  your  nerves,"  he  added.  "I  have  had,  I  believe, 
the   most   horrible   fright  of  my   existence." 

But  my  nerves,  which  he  so  much  misjudged,  were 
in  so  strange  a  disarray  that  speech  was  now  become 
impossible;     and    we    made    the    drive    thenceforward    in 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  105 

unbroken  silence.  When  we  arrived  before  the  door  of 
our  destination,  the  young  gentleman  alighted,  opened 
it  with  a  pass-key  like  one  who  was  at  home,  bade  the 
driver  carry  the  trunks  into  the  hall,  and  dismissed  him 
with  a  handsome  fee.  He  then  led  me  into  this  dining- 
room,  looking  nearly  as  you  behold  it,  but  with  certain 
marks  of  bachelor  occupancy,  and  hastened  to  pour  out 
a  glass  of  wine,  which  he  insisted  on  my  drinking.  As 
soon  as  I  could  find  my  voice,  "In  God's  name,"  I 
cried,    "where  am  I?" 

He  then  told  me  I  was  in  his  house,  where  I  was 
very  welcome,  and  had  no  more  urgent  business  than 
to  rest  myself  and  recover  my  spirits.  As  he  spoke  he 
offered  me  another  glass  of  wine,  of  which,  indeed,  I 
stood  in  great  want,  for  I  was  faint,  and  inclined  to 
be  hysterical.  Then  he  sat  down  beside  the  fire,  lighted 
another  cigar,  and  for  some  time  observed  me  curiously 
and  in   silence. 

"And  now,"  said  he,  "that  you  have  somewhat  re- 
stored yourself,  will  you  be  kind  enough  to  tell  me  in 
what  sort  of  crime  I  have  become  a  partner?  Are  you 
murderess,  smuggler,  thief,  or  only  the  harmless  and 
domestic  moonlight  flitter?" 

I  had  been  already  shocked  by  his  lighting  a  cigar 
without  permission,  for  I  had  not  forgotten  the  one  he 
threw  away  on  our  first  meeting;  and  now,  at  these 
explicit  insults,  I  resolved  at  once  to  reconquer  his  es- 
teem. The  judgment  of  the  world  I  have  consistently 
despised,  but  I  had  already  begun  to  set  a  certain 
value  on  the  good  opinion  of  my  entertainer.  Beginning 
with  a  note  of  pathos,  but  soon  brightening  into  my 
habitual    vivacity    and    humor,     I    rapidly    narrated    the 


106  U/orKs   of   Robert   Couis   Steuensoo 

circumstances  of  my  birth,  my  flight,  and  subsequent 
misfortunes.  He  heard  me  to  an  end  in  silence,  gravely 
smoking.  "Miss  Fanshawe,"  said  he,  when  I  had  done, 
"you  are  a  very  comical  and  most  enchanting  creature; 
and  I  see  nothing  for  it  but  that  I  should  return  to- 
morrow morning  and  satisfy  your  landlady's  demands." 

"You  strangely  misinterpret  my  confidence,"  was  my 
reply;  "and  if  you  had  at  all  appreciated  my  char- 
acter, you  would  understand  that  I  can  take  no  money 
at  your  hands." 

"Your  landlady  will  doubtless  not  be  so  particular," 
he  returned;  "neither  do  I  at  all  despair  of  persuading 
even  your  unconquerable  self.  I  desire  you  to  examine 
me  with  critical  indulgence.  My  name  is  Henry  Lux- 
more,  Lord  Southwark's  second  son.  I  possess  nine 
thousand  a  year,  the  house  in  which  we  are  now  sit- 
ting and  seven  others  in  the  best  neighborhoods  in 
town.  I  do  not  believe  I  am  repulsive  to  the  eye,  and 
as  for  my  character,  you  have  seen  me  under  trial.  I 
think  you  simply  the  most  original  of  created  beings; 
I  need  not  tell  you  what  you  know  very  well,  that 
you  are  ravishingly  pretty;  and  I  have  nothing  more 
to  add,  except  that,  foolish  as  it  may  appear,  I  am 
already  head  over  heels  in  love  with  you." 

"Sir,"  said  I,  "I  am  prepared  to  be  misjudged; 
but  while  I  continue  to  accept  your  hospitality  that 
fact  alone  should  be  enough  to  protect  me  from   insult." 

"Pardon  me,"  said  he;  "I  offer  you  marriage." 
And  leaning  back  in  his  chair  he  replaced  his  cigar 
between  his  lips. 

I  own  I  was  confounded  by  an  offer,  not  only  so 
unprepared,    but    couched  in  terms  so  singular.     But    he 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  •  107 

knew  very  well  how  to  obtain  his  purposes,  for  he 
was  not  only  handsome  in  person,  but  his  very  cool- 
ness had  a  charm;  and,  to  make  a  long  story  short,  a 
fortnight  later  I  became  the  wife  of  the  Honorable 
Henry   Luxmore. 

For  nearly  twenty  years  I  now  led  a  life  of  almost 
perfect  quiet.  My  Henry  had  his  weaknesses;  I  was 
twice  driven  to  flee  from  his  roof,  but  not  for  long; 
for  though  he  was  easily  overexcited,  his  nature  was 
placable  below  the  surface,  and,  with  all  his  faults,  I 
loved  him  tenderly.  At  last  he  was  taken  from  me; 
and  such  is  the  power  of  self-deception,  and  so  strange 
are  the  whims  of  the  dying,  he  actually  assured  me, 
with  his  latest  breath,  that  he  forgave  the  violence  of 
my  temper! 

There  was  but  one  pledge  of  the  marriage,  my 
daughter  Clara.  She  had,  indeed,  inherited  a  shadow  of 
her  father's  failing;  but  in  all  things  else,  unless  my 
partial  eyes  deceived  me,  she  derived  her  qualities  from 
me,  and  might  be  called  my  moral  imago.  On  my 
side,  whatever  else  I  may  have  done  amiss,  as  a 
mother  I  was  above  reproach.  Here,  then,  was  surely 
every  promise  for  the  future;  here,  at  last,  was  a  re- 
lation in  which  I  might  hope  to  taste  repose.  But  it 
was  not  to  be.  You  will  hardly  credit  me  when  I  in- 
form you  that  she  ran  away  from  home;  yet  such  was 
the  case.  Some  whim  about  oppressed  nationalities — 
Ireland,  Poland,  and  the  like — has  turned  her  brain; 
and  if  you  should  anywhere  encounter  a  young  lady 
(I  must  say,  of  remarkable  attractions)  answering  to 
the  name  of  Luxmore,  Lake,  or  Fonblanque  (for  I  am 
told    she     uses     these    indifferently,    as    well    as    many 


108  U/orKs   of   Robert   Couij   Steuepson 

others),  tell  her,  for  me,  that  I  forgive  her  cruelty, 
and  though  I  will  never  more  behold  her  face,  I  am 
at   any   time  prepared  to  make   her  a  liberal    allowance. 

On  the  death  of  Mr.  Luxmore,  I  sought  oblivion  in 
the  details  of  business.  I  believe  I  have  mentioned  that 
seven  mansions,  besides  this,  formed  part  of  Mr.  Lux- 
more's  property:  I  have  found  them  seven  white  ele- 
phants. The  greed  of  tenants,  the  dishonesty  of  solici- 
tors, and  the  incapacity  that  sits  upon  the  bench,  have 
combined  together  to  make  these  houses  the  burden  of 
my  life.  I  had  no  sooner,  indeed,  begun  to  look  into 
these  matters  for  myself,  than  I  discovered  so  many 
injustices  and  met  with  so  much  studied  incivility,  that 
I  was  plunged  into  a  long  series  of  law  suits,  some  of 
which  are  pending  to  this  day.  You  must  have  heard 
my  name  already;  I  am  the  Mrs.  Luxmore  of  the 
Law  Reports:  a  strange  destiny,  indeed,  for  one  born 
with  an  almost  cowardly  desire  for  peace!  But  I  am 
of  the  stamp  of  those  who,  when  they  have  once  be- 
gun a  task,  will  rather  die  than  leave  their  duty  un- 
fulfilled. I  have  met  with  every  obstacle:  insolence 
and  ingratitude  from  my  own  lawyers;  in  my  adver- 
saries, that  fault  of  obstinacy  which  is  to  me  perhaps 
the  most  distasteful  in  the  calendar;  from  the  bench, 
civility  indeed — always,  I  must  allow,  civility — but  never 
a  spark  of  independence,  never  that  knowledge  of  the 
law  and  love  of  justice  which  we  have  a  right  to  look 
for  in  a  judge,  the  most  august  of  human  officers. 
And  still,  against  all  these  odds,  I  have  undissuadably 
persevered. 

It  was  after  the  loss  of  one  of  my  innumerable 
cases    (a    subject    on   which    I   will    not    dwell)    that    it 


Tl?e   Dypamiter  109 

occurred  to  me  to  make  a  melancholy  pilgrimage  to 
my  various  houses.  Four  were  at  that  time  teuantless 
and  closed,  like  pillars  of  salt,  commemorating  the  cor- 
ruption of  the  age  and  the  decline  of  private  virtue. 
Three  were  occupied  by  persons  who  had  wearied  me 
by  every  conceivable  unjust  demand  and  legal  subter- 
fuge— persons  whom,  at  that  very  hour,  I  was  moving 
heaven  and  earth  to  turn  into  the  street.  This  was 
perhaps  the  sadder  spectacle  of  the  two;  and  my  heart 
grew  hot  within  me  to  behold  them  occupying,  in  my 
very  teeth,  and  with  an  insolent  ostentation,  these 
handsome  structures  which  were  as  much  mine  as  the 
flesh  upon  my   body. 

One  more  house  remained  for  me  to  visit,  that  in 
which  we  now  are.  I  had  let  it  (for  at  that  period  I 
lodged  in  a  hotel,  the  life  that  I  have  always  pre- 
ferred) to  a  Colonel  Geraldine,  a  gentleman  attached 
to  Prince  Florizel  of  Bohemia,  whom  you  must  cer- 
tainly have  heard  of;  and  I  had  supposed,  from  the 
character  and  position  of  my  tenant,  that  here,  at 
least,  I  was  safe  against  annoyance.  "What  was  my 
surprise  to  find  this  house  also  shuttered  and  apparently 
deserted!  I  will  not  deny  that  I  was  offended;  I  con- 
ceived that  a  house,  like  a  yacht,  was  better  to  be 
kept  in  commission;  and  I  promised  myself  to  bring 
the  matter  before  my  solicitor  the  following  morning. 
Meanwhile  the  sight  recalled  my  fancy  naturally  to  the 
past;  and  yielding  to  the  tender  influence  of  sentiment, 
I  sat  down  opposite  the  door  upon  the  garden  parapet. 
It  was  August,  and  a  sultry  afternoon,  but  that  spot 
is  sheltered,  as  you  may  observe  by  daylight,  under 
the    branches    of  a  spreading  chestnut;    the   square,    too, 


110  U/orl^s    of   Robert    Coufs    Steuer>soo 

was  deserted;  there  was  a  sound  of  distant  music  in 
the  air;  and  all  combined  to  plunge  me  into  that  most 
agreeable  of  states,  which  is  neither  happiness  nor  sor- 
row,   but  shares   the   poignancy  of   both. 

From  this  I  was  recalled  by  the  arrival  of  a  large 
van,  very  handsomely  appointed,  drawn  by  valuable 
horses,  mounted  by  several  men  of  an  appearance  more 
than  decent,  and  bearing  on  its  panels,  instead  of  a 
trader's  name,  a  coat-of-arms  too  modest  to  be  de- 
ciphered from  where  I  sat.  It  drew  up  before  my 
house,  the  door  of  which  was  immediately  opened  by 
one  of  the  men.  His  companions — I  counted  seven  of 
them  in  all — proceeded,  with  disciplined  activity,  to  take 
from  the  van  and  carry  into  the  house  a  variety  of 
hampers,  bottle-baskets,  and  boxes,  such  as  are  designed 
for  plate  and  napery.  The  wind'ows  of  the  dining  room 
were  thrown  widely  open,  as  though  to  air  it;  and  I 
saw  some  of  those  within  laying  the  table  for  a  meal. 
Plainly,  I  concluded,  my  tenant  was  about  to  return; 
and  while  still  determined  to  submit  to  no  aggression 
on  my  rights,  I  was  gratified  by  the  number  and  dis- 
cipline of  his  attendants,  and  the  quiet  profusion  that 
appeared  to  reign  in  his  establishment.  I  was  still  so 
thinking  when,  to  my  extreme  surprise,  the  windows 
and  shutters  of  the  dining-room  were  once  more  closed; 
the  men  began  to  reappear  from  the  interior  and  re- 
sume their  stations  on  the  van;  the  last  closed  the 
door  behind  his  exit;  the  van  drove  away;  and  the 
house  was  once  more  left  to  itself,  looking  blindly  on 
the  square  with  shuttered  windows,  as  though  the 
whole    affair  had  been   a  vision. 

It    was    no  vision,    however;    for,    as    I    rose    to    my 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  111 

feet  and  thus  brought  my  eyes  a  little  nearer  to  the 
level  of  the  fanlight  over  the  door,  I  saw  that,  though 
the  day  had  still  some  hours  to  run,  the  hall  lamps 
had  been  lighted  and  left  burning.  Plainly,  then,  guests 
were  expected,  and  not  expected  before  night.  For 
whom,  I  asked  myself  with  indignation,  were  such 
secret  preparations  likely  to  be  made?  Although  no 
prude,  I  am  a  woman  of  decided  views  upon  morality; 
if  my  house,  to  which  my  husband  had  brought  me, 
was  to  serve  in  the  character  of  a  petite  maison,  I 
saw  myself  forced,  however  unwillingly,  into  a  new 
course  of  litigation;  and,  determined  to  return  and 
know  the  worst,    I   hastened   to  my  hotel   for  dinner. 

I  was  at  my  post  by  ten.  The  night  was  clear  and 
quiet;  the  moon  rode  very  high  and  put  the  lamps  to 
shame;  and  the  shadow  below  the  chestnut  was  black 
as  ink.  Here,  then,  I  ensconced  myself  on  the  low 
parapet,  with  my  back  against  the  railings,  face  to 
face  with  the  moonlit  front  of  my  old  home,  and  rumi- 
nating gently  on  the  past.  Time  fled;  eleven  struck 
on  all  the  city  clocks;  and  presently  after  I  was 
aware  of  the  approach  of  a  gentleman  of  stately  and 
agreeable  demeanor.  He  was  smoking  as  he  walked; 
his  light  paletot,  which  was  open,  did  not  conceal  his 
evening  clothes;  and  he  bore  himself  with  a  serious 
grace  that  immediately  awakened  my  attention.  Before 
the  door  of  this  house  he  took  a  pass-key  from  his 
pocket,  quietly  admitted  himself,  and  disappeared  into 
the  lamplighted   hall. 

He  was  scarcely  gone  when  I  observed  another  and 
a  much  younger  man  approaching  hastily  from  the  op- 
posite   side    of    the    square.      Considering    the  season  of 


112  U/orKj   of   Robert   Couis   Stevenson 

the  year  and  the  genial  mildness  of  the  night,  he  was 
somewhat  closely  muffled  up;  and  as  he  came,  for  all 
his  hurry,  he  kept  looking  nervously  behind  him.  Ar- 
rived before  my  door,  he  halted  and  set  one  foot  upon 
the  step,  as  though  about  to  enter;  then,  with  a  sud- 
den change,  he  turned  and  began  to  hurry  away; 
halted  a  second  time,  as  if  in  painful  indecision;  and 
lastly,  with  a  violent  gesture,  wheeled  about,  returned 
straight  to  the  door,  and  rapped  upon  the  knocker. 
He  was  almost  immediately  admitted  by  the  first  arrival. 

My  curiosity  was  now  broad  awake.  I  made  myself 
as  small  as  I  could  in  the  very  densest  of  the  shadow, 
and  waited  for  the  sequel.  Nor  had  I  long  to  wait. 
From  the  same  side  of  the  square  a  second  young  man 
made  his  appearance,  walking  slowly  and  softly,  and 
like  the  first,  muffled  to  the  nose.  Before  the  house 
he  paused;  looked  all  about  him  with  a  swift  and 
comprehensive  glance;  and  seeing  the  square  lie  empty 
in  the  moon  and  lamplight,  leaned  far  across  the  area 
railings  and  appeared  to  listen  to  what  was  passing  in 
the  house.  From  the  dining-room  there  came  the  re- 
port of  a  champagne  cork,  and  following  upon  that, 
the  sound  of  rich  and  manly  laughter.  The  listener 
took  heart  of  grace,  produced  a  key,  unlocked  the  area 
gate,  shut  it  noiselessly  behind  him,  and  descended  the 
stair.  Just  when  his  head  had  reached  the  level  of 
the  pavement,  he  turned  half  round  and  once  more 
raked  the  square  with  a  suspicious  eyeshot.  The  muf- 
flings  had  fallen  lower  round  his  neck;  the  moon  shone 
full  upon  him;  and  I  was  startled  to  observe  the  pallor 
and  passionate  agitation  of  his  face. 

I    could    remain    no    longer    passive.     Persuaded    that 


|l?e    Dynamiter  113 

something  deadly  was  afoot,  I  crossed  the  roadway  and 
drew  near  the  area  railings.  There  was  no  one  below; 
the  man  must  therefore  have  entered  the  house,  with 
what  purpose  I  dreaded  to  imagine.  I  have  at  no  part 
of  my  career  lacked  courage;  and  now,  finding  the 
area  gate  was  merely  laid  to,  I  pushed  it  gently  open 
and  descended  the  stairs.  The  kitchen  door  of  the 
house,  like  the  area  gate,  was  closed  but  not  fastened. 
It  flashed  upon  me  that  the  criminal  was  thus  preparing 
his  escape;  and  the  thought,  as  it  confirmed  the  worst 
of  my  suspicions,  lent  me  new  resolve.  I  entered  the 
house;  and  being  now  quite  reckless  of  my  life,  I  shut 
and  locked  the  door. 

From  the  dining-room  above  I  could  hear  the  pleas- 
ant tones  of  a  voice  in  *  easy  conversation.  On  the 
ground  floor  all  was  not  only  profoundly  silent,  but 
the  darkness  seemed  to  weigh  upon  my  eyes.  Here, 
then,  I  stood  for  some  time,  having  thrust  myself  un- 
called into  the  utmost  peril,  and  being  destitute  of  any 
power  to  help  or  interfere.  Nor  will  I  deny  that  fear 
had  begun  already  to  assail  me,  when  I  became  aware, 
all  at  once,  as  though  by  some  immediate  but  silent 
incandescence,  of  a  certain  glimmering  of  light  upon 
the  passage  floor.  Toward  this  I  groped  my  way  with 
infinite  precaution;  and  having  come  at  length  as  far 
as  the  angle  of  the  corridor,  beheld  the  door  of  the 
butler's  pantry  standing  just  ajar  and  a  narrow  thread 
of  brightness  falling  from  the  chink.  Creeping  still 
closer,  I  put  my  eyes  to  the  aperture.  The  man  sat 
within  upon  a  chair,  listening,  I  could  see,  with  the 
most    rapt    attention.      On    a    table    before    him    he    had 

laid    a  watch,   a    pair    of    steel    revolvers,    and    a    bull's- 

8-  Vol.  XIV. 


114  U/orl^s    of   Robert    Couis   Steuenson 

eye  lantern.  For  one  second  many  contradictory  theo- 
ries and  projects  whirled  together  in  my  head;  the 
next,  I  had  slammed  the  door  and  turned  the  key  upon 
the  malefactor.  Surprised  at  my  own  decision,  I  stood 
and  panted,  leaning  on  the  wall.  From  within  the 
pantry  not  a  sound  was  to  be  heard;  the  man,  what- 
ever he  was,  had  accepted  his  fate  without  a  struggle, 
and  now,  as  I  hugged  myself  to  fancy,  sat  frozen  with 
terror  and  looking  for  the  worst  to  follow.  I  promised 
myself  that  he  should  not  be  disappointed;  and  the 
better  to  complete  my  task,  I  turned  to  ascend  the 
stairs. 

The  situation,  as  I  groped  my  way  to  the  first  floor, 
appealed  to  me  suddenly  by  my  strong  sense  of  humor. 
Here  was  I,  the  owner  of  the  house,  burglariously 
present  in  its  walls;  and  there,  in  the  dining-room, 
were  two  gentlemen,  unknown  to  me,  seated  compla- 
cently at  supper,  and  only  saved  by  my  promptitude 
from  some  surprising  or  deadly  interruption.  It  were 
strange  if  I  could  not  manage  to  extract  the  matter 
of  amusement  from   so  unusual   a  situation. 

Behind  this  dining-room  there  is  a  small  apartment 
intended  for  a  library.  It  was  to  this  that  I  cautiously 
groped  my  way;  and  you  will  see  how  fortune  had 
exactly  served  me.  The  weather,  I  have  said,  was 
sultry:  in  order  to  ventilate  the  dining-room  and  yet 
preserve  the  uninhabited  appearance  of  the  mansion  to 
the  front,  the  window  of  the  library  had  been  widely 
opened  and  the  door  of  communication  between  the 
two  apartments  left  ajar.  To  this  interval  I  now  applied 
my  eye. 

"Wax    tapers,    set    in    silver    candlesticks,    shed    their 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  115 

chastened  brightness  on  the  damask  of  the  tablecloth 
and  the  remains  of  a  cold  collation  of  the  rarest  del- 
icacy. The  two  gentlemen  had  finished  supper,  and 
were  now  trifling  with  cigars  and  maraschino;  while  in 
a  silver  spirit  lamp,  coffee  of  the  most  captivating 
fragrance  was  preparing  in  the  fashion  of  the  East. 
The  elder  of  the  two,  he  who  had  first  arrived,  was 
placed  directly  facing  me;  the  other  was  set  on  his 
left  hand.  Both,  like  the  man  in  the  butler's  pantry, 
seemed  to  be  intently  listening;  and  on  the  face  of  the 
second  I  thought  I  could  perceive  the  marks  of  fear. 
Oddly  enough,  however,  when  they  came  to  speak,  the 
parts  were  found  to  be  reversed. 

"I  assure  you,"  said  the  elder  gentleman,  "I  not 
only  heard  the  slamming  of  a  door,  but  the  sound  of 
very   guarded   footsteps." 

"Your  highness  was  certainly  deceived,"  replied  the 
other.  "I  am  endowed  with  the  acutest  hearing,  and 
I  can  swear  that  not  a  mouse  has  rustled."  Yet  the 
pallor  and  contraction  of  his  features  were  in  total  dis- 
cord  with   the   tenor  of  his   words. 

His  highness  (whom,  of  course,  I  readily  divined  to 
be  Prince  Florizel)  looked  at  his  companion  for  the  least 
fraction  of  a  second;  and  though  nothing  shook  the 
easy  quiet  of  his  attitude,  I  could  see  that  he  was  far 
from  being  duped.  "It  is  well,"  said  he;  "let  us  dis- 
miss the  topic.  And  now,  sir,  that  I  have  very  freely 
explained  the  sentiments  by  which  I  am  directed,  let 
me  ask  you,  according  to  your  promise,  to  imitate  my 
frankness." 

"I  have  heard  you,"  replied  the  other,  "with  great 
interest." 


116  U/orKs  of  Robert  Couis  Steueoson 

"With  singular    patience,"   said   the  prince  politely. 

"Ay,  your  highness,  and  with  unlooked  for  sym- 
pathy," returned  the  young  man.  "I  know  not  how 
to  tell  the  change  that  has  befallen  me.  You  have,  I 
must  suppose,  a  charm,  to  which  even  your  enemies  are 
subject."  He  looked  at  the  clock  on  the  mantel-piece 
and  visibly  blauched.  "So  late!"  he  cried.  "Your 
highness — God  knows  I  am  speaking  from  the  heart — 
before  it  be  too  late,    leave   this  house!" 

The  prince  glauced  once  more  at  his  companion,  and 
then  very  deliberately  shook  the  ash  from  his  cigar. 
"That  is  a  strange  remark,"  said  he;  "and  a  propos 
de  bottes,  I  never  continue  a  cigar  when  once  the  ash 
is  fallen;  the  spell  breaks,  the  soul  of  the  flavor  flies 
away,  and  there  remains  but  the  dead  body  of  tobacco; 
and  I  make  it  a  rule  to  throw  away  that  husk  and 
choose  another."     He   suited  the  action  to  the   words. 

"Do  not  trifle  with  my  appeal,"  resumed  the  young 
man  in  tones  that  trembled  with  emotion.  "It  is  made 
at  the  price  of  my  honor  and  to  the  peril  of  my  life. 
Go — go  now!  lose  not  a  moment;  and  if  you  have 
any  kindness  for  a  young  man,  miserably  deceived 
indeed,  but  not  devoid  of  better  sentiments,  look  not 
behind   you  as  you  leave." 

"Sir,"  said  the  prince,  "I  am  here  upon  your  honor; 
I  assure  you  upon  mine  that  I  shall  continue  to  rely 
upon  that  safeguard.  The  coffee  is  ready;  I  must 
again  trouble  you,  I  fear."  And  with  a  courteous 
movement  of  the  hand,  he  seemed  to  invite  his  com- 
panion  to  pour  out  the  coffee. 

The  unhappy  young  man  rose  from  his  seat.  "I 
appeal  to  you,"   he  cried,    "by  every  holy  sentiment,  in 


Tl?e   Dynamiter  117 

mercy  to  me,  if  not  in  pity  to  yourself,  begone  before 
it  is  too  late." 

"Sir,"  replied  the  prince,  "I  am  not  readily  accessible 
to  fear;  and  if  there  is  one  defect  to  which  I  must 
plead  guilty,  it  is  that  of  a  curious  disposition.  You 
go  the  wrong  way  about  to  make  me  leave  this  house, 
in  which  I  play  the  part  of  your  entertainer;  and, 
suffer  me  to  add,  young  man,  if  any  peril  threaten 
us,    it   was   of   your   contriving,    not  of   mine." 

"Alas,  you  do  not  know  to  what  you  condemn 
me,"  cried  the  other.  "But  I  at  least  will  have  no 
hand  in  it."  With  these  words  he  carried  his  hand  to 
his  pocket,  hastily  swallowed  the  contents  of  a  phial, 
and,  with  the  very  act,  reeled  back  and  fell  across  his 
chair  upon  the  floor.  The  prince  left  his  place  and 
came  and  stood  above  him,  where  he  lay  convulsed 
upon  the  carpet.  "Poor  moth!"  I  heard  his  highness 
murmur.  "Alas,  poor  moth!  must  we  again  inquire 
which  is  the  more  fatal— weakness  or  wickedness?  And 
can  a  sympathy  with  ideas,  surely  not  ignoble  in 
themselves,    conduct  a  man  to  this  dishonorable  death?" 

By  this  time  I  had  pushed  the  door  open  and 
walked  into  the  room.  "Your  highness,"  said  I,  "this 
is  no  time  for  moralizing;  with  a  little  promptness  we 
may  save  this  creature's  life;  and  as  for  the  other,  he 
need  cause  you  no  concern,  for  I  have  him  safely 
under  lock  and  key." 

The  prince  had  turned  about  upon  my  entrance,  and 
regarded  me  certainly  with  no  alarm,  but  with  a  pro- 
fundity of  wonder  which  almost  robbed  me  of  my  self- 
possession.  "My  dear  madam,"  he  cried  at  last,  "and 
who  the  devil  are  you?" 


118  U/orl^s    of   Robert    Couis    Stevenson 

I  was  already  on  the  floor  beside  the  dying  man.  I 
had,  of  course,  no  idea  with  what  drug  he  had  at- 
tempted his  life,  and  I  was  forced  to  try  him  with  a 
variety  of  antidotes.  Here  were  both  oil  and  vinegar, 
for  the  prince  had  done  the  young  man  the  honor  of 
compounding  for  him  one  of  his  celebrated  salads;  and 
of  each  of  these  I  administered  from  a  quarter  to  half 
a  pint,  with  no  apparent  efficacy.  I  next  plied  him 
with  the  hot  coffee,  of  which  there  may  have  been 
near  upon   a  quart. 

"Have  you  no  milk?"    I  inquired. 

"I  fear,  madam,  that  milk  has  been  omitted,"  re- 
turned the  prince. 

"Salt,  then,"  said  I;  "salt  is  a  revulsive.  Pass  the 
salt." 

"And  possibly  the  mustard?"  asked  his  highness,  as 
he  offered  me  the  contents  of  the  various  salt-cellars 
poured    together  on   a  plate. 

"Ah,"  cried  I,  "the  thought  is  excellent!  Mix  me 
about  half  a  pint  of  mustard,    drinkably  dilute." 

Whether  it  was  the  salt  or  the  mustard,  or  the 
mere  combination  of  so  many  subversive  agents,  as 
soon  as  the  last  had  been  poured  over  his  throat  the 
young  sufferer  obtained  relief. 

"There!"  I  exclaimed,  with  natural  triumph,  "I 
have  saved   a  life!" 

"And  yet,  madam,"  returned  the  prince,  "your 
mercy  may  be  cruelty  disguised.  "Where  the  honor  is 
lost,   it  is,   at  least,   superfluous  to  prolong  the   life." 

"If  you  had  led  a  life  as  changeable  as  mine,  your 
highness,"  I  replied,  "you  would  hold  a  very  different 
opinion.     For  my  part,   and  after  whatever  extremity  of 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  119 

misfortune  or  disgrace,  I  should  still  count  to-morrow- 
worth   a  trial." 

"You  speak  as  a  lady,  madam,"  said  the  prince; 
"and  for  such  you  speak  the  truth.  But  to  men  there 
is  permitted  such  a  field  of  license,  and  the  good  be- 
havior asked  of  them  is  at  once  so  easy  and  so  little, 
that  to  fail  in  that  is  to  fall  beyond  the  reach  of  par- 
don. But  will  you  suffer  me  to  repeat  a  question,  put 
to  you  at  first,  I  am  afraid,  with  some  defect  of 
courtesy;  and  to  ask  you  once  more,  who  you  are  and 
how  I  have  the  honor  of  your  company?" 

"I  am  the  proprietor  of  the  house  in  which  we 
stand,"   said   I. 

"And  still   I  am   at  fault,"   returned  the  prince. 

But  at  that  moment  the  timepiece  on  the  mantel-shelf 
began  to  strike  the  hour  of  twelve;  and  the  young  man, 
raising  himself  upon  one  elbow,  with  an  expression  of 
despair  and  horror  that  I  have  never  seen  excelled, 
cried  lamentably:  "Midnight?  O  just  God."  We  stood 
frozen  to  our  places,  while  the  tingling  hammer  of  the 
timepiece  measured  the  remaining  strokes;  nor  had  we 
yet  stirred,  so  tragic  had  been  the  tones  of  the  young 
man,  when  the  various  bells  of  London  began  in  turn 
to  declare  the  hour.  The  timepiece  was  inaudible  beyond 
the  walls  of  the  chamber  where  we  stood;  but  the  second 
pulsation  of  Big  Ben  had  scarcely  throbbed  into  the  night, 
before  a  sharp  detonation  rang  about  the  house.  The 
prince  sprang  for  the  door  by  which  I  had  entered;  but, 
quick  as  he  was,  I  yet  contrived  to  intercept  him. 

"Are  you  armed?"   I  cried. 

"No,  madam,"  replied  he.  "You  remind  me  ap- 
positely;   I  will   take  the  poker." 


120  U/orl^s  of  Robert  Couis  Stevenson 

"The  man  below,"  said  I,  "has  two  revolvers.  Would 
you   confront   him   at   such   odds?" 

He  paused,  as  though  staggered  in  his  purpose.  "And 
yet,  madam,"  said  he,  "we  cannot  continue  to  remain 
in   ignorance  of  what  has  passed." 

"No!"  cried  I.  "And  who  proposes  it?  I  am  as 
curious  as  yourself,  but  let  us  rather  send  for  the  po- 
lice; or,  if  your  highness  dreads  a  scandal,  for  some 
of    your  own  servants." 

"Nay,  madam,"  he  replied,  smiling,  "for  so  brave 
a  lady,  you  surprise  me.  Would  you  have  me,  then, 
send  others   where   I   fear  to  go  myself?" 

"You  are  perfectly  right,"  said  I,  "and  I  was  en- 
tirely wrong.  Go,  in  God's  name,  and  I  will  hold  the 
candle!" 

Together,  therefore,  we  descended  to  the  lower  story, 
he  carrying  the  poker,  I  the  light;  and  together  we 
approached  and  opened  the  door  of  the  butler's  pantry. 
In  some  sort,  I  believe,  I  was  prepared  for  the  spectacle 
that  met  our  eyes;  I  was  prepared,  that  is,  to  find 
the  villain  dead,  but  the  rude  details  of  such  a  violent 
suicide  I  was  unable  to  endure.  The  prince,  unshaken 
by  horror  as  he  had  remained  unshaken  by  alarm, 
assisted  me  with  the  most  respectful  gallantry  to  regain 
the   dining-room. 

There  we  found  our  patient,  still,  indeed,  deadly  pale, 
but  vastly  recovered  and  already  seated  on  a  chair.  He 
held  out  both  his  hands  with  a  most  pitiful  gesture  of 
interrogation. 

"He  is  dead,"   said   the  prince. 

"Alas!"  cried  the  young  man,  "and  it  should  be  I! 
What  do   I   do,  thus  lingering  on   the  stage  I   have  dis- 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  121 

graced,  while  he,  my  sure  comrade,  blameworthy  indeed 
for  much,  but  yet  the  soul  of  fidelity,  has  judged  and 
slain  himself  for  an  involuntary  fault?  Ah,  sir,"  said 
he,  ''and  you  too,  madam,  without  whose  cruel  help  I 
should  be  now  beyond  the  reach  of  my  accusing  con- 
science, you  behold  in  me  the  victim  equally  of  my 
own  faults  and  virtues.  I  was  born  a  hater  of  injus- 
tice; from  my  most  tender  years  my  blood  boiled 
against  heaven  when  I  beheld  the  sick,  and  against  men 
when  I  witnessed  the  sorrows  of  the  poor;  the  pauper's 
crust  stuck  in  my  throat  when  I  sat  down  to  eat  my 
dainties,  and  the  crippled  child  has  set  me  weeping. 
What  was  there  in  that  but  what  was  noble?  and  yet 
observe  to  what  a  fall  these  thoughts  have  led  me! 
Year  after  year  this  passion  for  the  lost  besieged  me 
closer.  What  hope  was  there  in  kings?  what  hope  in 
these  well-feathered  classes  that  now  roll  in  money?  I 
had  observed  the  course  of  history;  1  knew  the  burgess, 
our  ruler  of  to-day,  to  be  base,  cowardly  and  dull;  I 
saw  him,  in  every  age,  combine  to  pull  down  that 
which  was  immediately  above  and  to  prey  upon  those 
that  were  below;  his  dullness,  I  knew,  would  ultimately 
bring  about  his  ruin;  I  knew  his  days  were  numbered, 
and  yet  how  was  I  to  wait?  how  was  I  to  let  the 
poor  child  shiver  in  the  rain?  The  better  days,  indeed, 
were  coming,  but  the  child  would  die  before  that.  Alas, 
your  highness,  in  surely  no  ungenerous  impatience  I 
enrolled  myself  among  the  enemies  of  this  unjust  and 
doomed  society;  in  surely  no  unnatural  desire  to  keep 
the  fires  of  my  philanthropy  alight,  I  bound  myself  by 
an  irrevocable  oath. 

"That    oath    is    all    my  history.     To  give  freedom  to 


122  U/or^s    of   Robert    Couis    Stevenson 

posterity,  I  have  forsworn  my  own.  I  must  attend 
upon  every  signal;  and  soon  my  father  complained  of 
my  irregular  hours  and  turned  me  from  his  house.  I 
was  engaged  in  betrothal  to  an  honest  girl;  from  her 
also  I  had  to  part,  for  she  was  too  shrewd  to  credit 
my  inventions  and  too  innocent  to  be  intrusted  with 
the  truth.  Behold  me,  then,  alone  with  conspirators! 
Alas!  as  the  years  went  on,  my  illusions  left  me. 
Surrounded  as  I  was  by  the  fervent  disciples  and  apolo 
gists  of  revolution,  I  beheld  them  daily  advance  in 
confidence  and  de3peratoin;  I  beheld  myself,  upon  the 
other  hand,  and  with  an  almost  equal  regularity,  decline 
in  faith.  I  had  sacrificed  all  to  further  that  cause  in 
which  I  still  believed;  and  daily  I  began  to  grow  in 
doubts  if  we  were  advancing  it  indeed.  Horrible  was 
the  society  with  which  we  warred,  but  our  own  means 
were  not  less  horrible. 

"I  will  not  dwell  upon  my  sufferings;  I  will  not 
pause  to  tell  you  how,  when  I  beheld  young  men 
still  free  and  happy,  married,  fathers  of  children,  cheer- 
fully toiling  at  their  work,  my  heart  reproached  me 
with  the  greatness  and  vanity  of  my  unhappy  sacrifice. 
I  will  not  describe  to  you  how,  worn  by  poverty,  poor 
lodging,  scanty  food,  and  an  unquiet  conscience,  my 
health  began  to  fail,  and  in  the  long  nights,  as  I  wan- 
dered bedless  in  the  rainy  streets,  the  most  cruel  suffer- 
ings of  the  body  were  added  to  the  tortures  of  the 
mind.  These  things  are  not  personal  to  me;  they  are 
common  to  all  unfortunates  in  my  position.  An  oath, 
so  light  a  thing  to  swear,  so  grave  a  thing  to  break: 
an  oath,  taken  in  the  heat  of  youth,  repented  with 
what    sobbings  of    the  heart,    but  yet    in  vain  repented, 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  123 

as  the  years  go  on:  an  oath,  that  was  once  the  very 
utterance  of  the  truth  of  God,  but  that  falls  to  be  the 
symbol  of  a  meaningless  and  empty  slavery;  such  is 
the  yoke  that  many  young  men  joyfully  assume,  and 
under  whose  dead  weight  they  live  to  suffer  worse  than 
death. 

"It  is  not  that  I  was  patient.  I  have  begged  to  be 
released ;  but  I  knew  too  much,  and  was  still  refused. 
I  have  fled;  ay,  and  for  the  time  successfully.  I 
reached  Paris.  I  found  a  lodging  in  the  Rue  St. 
Jacques,  almost  opposite  the  Val  de  Grace.  My  room 
was  mean  and  bare,  but  the  sun  looked  into  it  toward 
evening:  it  commanded  a  peep  of  a  green  garden;  a 
bird  hung  by  a  neighbor's  window  and  made  the  morn- 
ing beautiful;  and  I,  who  was  sick,  might  lie  in  bed 
and  rest  myself:  I  who  was  in  full  revolt  against  the 
principles  that  I  had  served,  and  was  no  longer  at  the 
beck  of  the  council,  and  was  no  longer  charged  with 
shameful  and  revolting  tasks.  Oh!  what  an  interval  of 
peace  was  that!  I  still  dream  at  times  that  I  can  hear 
the   note  of  my  neighbor's   bird. 

"My  money  was  running  out,  and  it  became  neces- 
sary that  I  should  find  employment.  Scarcely  had  I 
been  three  days  upon  the  search,  ere  I  thought  that  I 
was  being  followed.  I  made  certain  of  the  features  of 
the  man  which  were  quite  strange  to  me,  and  turned 
into  a  small  cafe,  where  I  whiled  away  an  hour,  pre- 
tending to  read  the  papers,  but  inwardly  convulsed  with 
terror.  When  I  came  forth  into  the  street,  it  was  quite 
empty,  and  I  breathed  again;  but  alas,  I  had  not 
turned  three  corners,  when  I  once  more  observed  the 
human  hound  pursuing  me.     Not  an  hour  was  to  be  lost; 


124  U/orte   of   Robert   C0U15   Stevenson 

timely  submission  might  yet  preserve  a  life  which  other- 
wise was  forfeited  and  dishonored;  and  I  fled,  with 
what  speed  you  may  conceive,  to  the  Paris  agency  of 
the  society   T  served. 

"My  submission  was  accepted.  I  took  up  once  more 
the  hated  burden  of  that  life;  once  more  I  was  at  the 
call  of  men  whom  I  despised  and  hated,  while  yet  I 
envied  and  admired  them.  They  were  whole-hearted  in 
the  things  they  proposed;  but  I,  who  had  once  been 
such  as  they,  had  fallen  from  the  brightness  of  my 
faith,  and  now  labored,  like  a  hireling,  for  the  wages 
of  a  loathed  existence.  Ay,  sir,  to  that  I  was  con- 
demned; I  obeyed  to  continue  to  live,  and  lived  but 
to  obey. 

"The  last  charge  that  was  laid  upon  me  was  the 
one  which  has  to-night  so  tragically  ended.  Boldly  tell- 
ing who  I  was,  I  was  to  request  from  your  highness, 
on  behalf  of  my  society,  a  private  audience,  where  it 
was  designed  to  murder  you.  If  one  thing  remained  to 
me  of  my  old  convictions,  it  was  the  hate  of  kings; 
and  when  this  task  was  offered  me,  I  took  it  gladly. 
Alas,  sir,  you  triumphed.  As  we  supped,  you  gained 
upon  my  heart.  Your  character,  your  talents,  your  de- 
signs for  our  unhappy  country,  all  had  been  misrepre- 
sented. I  began  to  forget  you  were  a  prince;  I  began, 
all  too  feelingly,  to  remember  that  you  were  a  man. 
As  I  saw  the  hour  approach,  I  suffered  agonies  untold; 
and  when,  at  last,  we  heard  the  slamming  of  the  door 
which  announced  in  my  unwilling  ears  the  arrival  of 
the  partner  of  my  crime,  you  will  bear  me  out  with 
what  instancy  I  besought  you  to  depart.  You  would 
not,    alas!    and   what    could    I?    Kill    you,    I    could  not; 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  125 

my  heart  revolted,  my  hand  turned  back  from  such  a 
deed.  Yet  it  was  impossible  that  I  should  suffer  you 
to  stay;  for  when  the  hour  struck  and  my  companion 
came,  true  to  appointment,  and  he,  at  least,  true  to 
design,  I  could  neither  suffer  you  to  be  killed  nor  yet 
him  to  be  arrested.  From  such  a  tragic  passage,  death, 
and  death  alone  could  save  me;  and  it  is  no  fault  of 
mine  if  I  continue  to  exist. 

"But  you,  madam,"  continued  the  young  man,  ad- 
dressing himself  more  directly  to  myself,  "were  doubt- 
less born  to  save  the  prince  and  to  confound  our  pur- 
poses. My  life  you  have  prolonged;  and  by  turning 
the  key  on  my  companion,  you  have  made  me  the 
author  of  his  death.  He  heard  the  hour  strike;  he 
was  impotent  to  help;  and  thinking  himself  forfeit  to 
honor,  thinking  that  I  should  fall  alone  upon  his  high- 
ness and  perish  for  lack  of  his  support,  he  has  turned 
his  pistol  on  himself." 

"You  are  right,"  said  Prince  Florizel:  "it  was  in 
no  ungenerous  spirit  that  you  brought  these  burdens  on 
yourself;  and  when  I  see  you  so  nobly  to  blame,  so 
tragically  punished,  I  stand  like  one  reproved.  For  is 
it  not  strange,  madam,  that  you  and  I,  by  practicing 
accepted  and  inconsiderable  virtues,  and  commonplace 
but  still  unpardonable  faults,  should  stand  here,  in  the 
sight  of  God,  with  what  we  call  clean  hands  and  quiet 
consciences;  while  this  poor  youth,  for  an  error  that  I 
could  almost  envy  him,  should  be  sunk  beyond  the 
reach  of  hope? 

"Sir,"  resumed  the  prince,  turning  to  the  young  man,  "I 
cannot  help  you;  my  help  would  but  unchain  the  thunder- 
bolt that  overhangs  you;   and  I  can  but  leave  you  free." 


126  U/or^s   of  Robert   Couis   Stevenson 

"And,  sir,"  said  I,  "as  this  house  belongs  to  me, 
I  will  ask  you  to  have  the  kiudness  to  remove  the 
body.  You  and  your  conspirators,  it  appears  to  me, 
can  hardly  in   civility  do  less." 

"It  shall  be  done,"  said  the  young  man,  with  a 
dismal  accent. 

"And  you,  dear  madam,"  said  the  prince,  "you,  to 
whom   I  owe  my  life,    how  can   I  serve  you?" 

"Your  highness,"  I  said,  "to  be  very  plain,  this  is 
my  favorite  house,  being  not  only  a  valuable  property, 
but  endeared  to  me  by  various  associations.  I  have 
endless  troubles  with  tenants  of  the  ordinary  class;,  and 
at  first  applauded  my  good  fortune  when  I  found  one 
of  the  station  of  your  Master  of  the  Horse.  I  now 
begin  to  think  otherwise:  dangers  set  a  siege  about 
great  personages;  and  I  do  not  wish  my  tenement  to 
share  these  risks.  Procure  me  the  resiliation  of  the 
lease,    and   I   shall   feel   myself  your   debtor." 

"I  must  tell  you,  madam,"  replied  his  highness, 
"that  Colonel  Geraldine  is  but  a  cloak  for  myself;  and 
I  should  be  sorry  indeed  to  think  myself  so  unaccept- 
able a  tenant." 

"Your  highness,"  said  I,  "I  have  conceived  a  sin- 
cere admiration  for  your  character;  but  on  the  subject 
of  house  property,  I  cannot  allow  the  interference  of 
my  feelings.  I  will,  however,  to  prove  to  you  that 
there  is  nothing  personal  in  my  request,  here  solemnly 
engage  my  word  that  I  will  never  put  another  tenant 
in  this   house." 

"Madam,"  said  Florizel,  "you  plead  your  cause  too 
charmingly  to  be  refused." 

Thereupon   we  all    three   withdrew.     The  young  man, 


Jlje    Dynamiter  127 

still  reeling  in  his  walk,  departed  by  himself  to  seek 
the  assistance  of  his  fellow  conspirators;  and  the  prince, 
with  the  most  attentive  gallantry,  lent  me  his  escort  to 
the  door  of  my  hotel.  The  next  day,  the  lease  was 
canceled;  nor  from  that  hour  to  this,  though  some- 
times regretting  my  engagement,  have  I  suffered  a  ten 
ant  in  this  house. 


THE   SUPERFLUOUS   MANSION    {continued) 

As  soon  as  the  old  lady  had  finished  her  relation, 
Somerset  made  haste  to  offer   her  his  compliments. 

" Madam,"  said  he,  "your  story  is  not  only  enter- 
taining but  instructive;  and  you  have  told  it  with  in- 
finite vivacity.  I  was  much  affected  toward  the  end, 
as  I  held  at  one  time  very  liberal  opinions,  and  should 
certainly  have  joined  a  secret  society  if  I  had  been 
able  to  find  one.  But  the  whole  tale  came  home  to 
me;  and  I  was  the  better  able  to  feel  for  you  in  your 
various  perplexities,  as  I  am  myself  of  somewhat  hasty 
temper." 

"I  do  not  understand  you,"  said  Mrs.  Luxmore,  in 
a  very  high  key.  "You  must  have  strangely  misinter- 
preted what  I  have  told  you.  You  must  be  a  singu- 
larly  dense   young   man." 

Somerset,  seeing  no  probable  termination  to  the  lady's 
anger,    hurried   to   recant. 

"Dear  Mrs.  Luxmore,"  said  he,  "you  certainly  mis- 
construe my  remark.  As  a  man  of  somewhat  fiery 
humor,     my    consciene     repeatedly    pricked    me    when    I 


128  U/orKs   of   Robert   Couis   Stevenson 

heard  what  you  had  suffered  at  the  hands  of  persons 
similarly  constituted . ' ' 

"Oh,  very  well  indeed,"  replied  the  old  lady;  "and 
a  very  proper  spirit.  I  regret  that  I  have  met  with  it 
so  rarely." 

"But  in  all  this,"  resumed  the  young  man,  "I  per- 
ceive  nothing  that  concerns  myself." 

"I  am  about  to  come  to  that,"  she  returned.  "And 
you  have  already  before  you,  in  the  pledge  I  gave 
Prince  Florizel,  one  of  the  elements  of  the  affair.  I 
am  a  woman  of  the  nomadic  sort,  and  when  I  have 
no  case  before  the  courts  I  make  it  a  habit  to  visit 
continental  spas:  not  that  I  have  ever  been  ill,  but 
then  I  am  no  longer  young,  and  I  am  always  happy 
in  a  crowd.  Well,  to  come  more  shortly  to  the  point, 
I  am  now  on  the  wing  for  Evian;  this  incubus  of  a 
house,  which  I  must  leave  behind  and  dare  not  let, 
hangs  heavily  upon  my  hands;  and  I  propose  to  rid 
myself  of  that  concern,  and  do  you  a  very  good  turn 
into  the  bargain,  by  lending  you  the  mansion,  with  all 
its  fittings,  as  it  stands.  The  idea  was  sudden;  it  ap- 
pealed to  me  as  humorous;  and  I  am  sure  it  will  cause 
my  relatives,  if  they  should  ever  hear  of  it,  the  keen- 
est possible  chagrin.  Here,  then,  is  the  key,  and  when 
you  return  at  two  to-morrow  afternoon,  you  will  find 
neither  me  nor  my  cats  to  disturb  you  in  your  new 
possession." 

So  saying,  the  old  lady  arose,  as  if  to  dismiss  her 
visitor,  but  Somerset,  looking  somewhat  blankly  on  the 
key,   began  to  protest. 

"Dear  Mrs.  Luxmore,"  said  he,  "this  is  a  most  un- 
usual   proposal.     You   know  nothing    of    me,   beyond   the 


Jbe    Dynamiter  129 

fact  that  I  displayed  both  impudence  and  timidity.  I 
may  be  the  worst  kind  of  scoundrel;  I  may  sell  your 
furniture — " 

"You  may  blow  up  the  house  with  gunpowder  for 
what  I  care!"  cried  Mrs.  Luxmore.  "It  is  in  vain  to 
reason.  Such  is  the  force  of  my  character  that,  when 
I  have  one  idea  clearly  in  my  head,  I  do  not  care 
two  straws  for  any  side  consideration.  It  amuses  me 
to  do  it,  and  let  that  suffice.  On  your  side,  you  may 
do  what  you  please — let  apartments,  or  keep  a  private 
hotel;  on  my  part,  I  promise  you  a  full  month's  warn- 
ing before  I  return,  and  I  never  fail  religiously  to 
keep   my   promises." 

The  young  man  was  about  to  renew  his  protest, 
when  he  observed  a  sudden  and  significant  change  in 
the   old   lady's   countenance. 

"If   I  thought  you   capable   of   disrespect!"    she  cried. 

"Madam,"  said  Somerset,  with  the  extreme  fervor 
of  asseveration,  "madam,  I  accept.  I  beg  you  to  un- 
derstand that  I  accept  with  joy  and  gratitude." 

"Ah,  well,"  returned  Mrs.  Luxmore,  "if  I  am  mis- 
taken, let  it  pass.  And  now,  since  all  is  comfortably 
settled,    I   wish  you   a  good-night." 

Thereupon,    as    if    to    leave    him  no  room  for  repent 
ance,    she   hurried   Somerset   out    of    the    front  door,  and 
left  him   standing,    key  in   hand,    upon   the  pavement. 

The   next  day,    about    the  hour  appointed,   the  young 

man    found    his  way   to   the   Square,    which    I   will    here 

call    Golden    Square,    though    that    was    not    its    name. 

What   to   expect,    he   knew   not;    for  a   man  may  live  in 

dreams,    and   yet  be  unprepared   for  their  realization.     It 

was    already   with   a   certain    pang    of    surprise    that    he 

9-  Vol.  XIV. 


130  U/orKj    of   Robert    Couij    Steuepsor; 

beheld  the  mansion,-  standing  in  the  eye  of  day,  a 
solid  among  solids.  The  key,  upon  trial,  readily  opened 
the  front  door;  he  entered  that  great  house,  a  privi- 
leged burglar;  and  escorted  by  the  echoes  of  desertion, 
rapidly  reviewed  the  empty  chambers.  Cats,  servant, 
old  lady,  the  very  marks  of  habitation,  like  writing  on 
a  slate,  had  been  in  these  few  hours  obliterated.  He 
wandered  from  floor  to  floor,  and  found  the  house  of 
great  extent;  the  kitchen  offices  commodious  and  well- 
appointed;  the  rooms  many  and  large;  and  the  draw- 
ing-room, in  particular,  an  apartment  of  princely  size 
and  tasteful  decoration.  Although  the  day  without  was 
warm,  genial  and  sunny,  with  a  ruffling  wind  from  the 
quarter  of  Torquay,  a  chill,  as  it  were,  of  suspended 
animation,  inhabited  the  house.  Dust  and  shadows  met 
the  eye;  and  but  for  the  ominous  procession  of  the 
echoes,  and  the  rumor  of  the  wind  among  the  garden 
trees,  the  ear  of  the  young  man  was  stretched  in 
vain. 

Behind  the  dining-room,  that  pleasant  library,  re- 
ferred to  by  the  old  lady  in  her  tale,  looked  upon  the 
flat  roofs  and  netted  cupolas  of  the  kitchen  quarters, 
and  on  a  second  visit  this  room  appeared  to  greet  him 
with  a  smiling  countenance.  He  might  as  well,  he 
thought,  avoid  the  expense  of  lodging:  the  library, 
fitted  with  an  iron  bedstead  which  he  had  remarked  in 
one  of  the  upper  chambers,  would  serve  his  purpose 
for  the  night;  while  in  the  dining-room,  which  was 
large,  airy  and  lightsome,  looking  on  the  square  and 
garden,  he  might  very  agreeably  pass  his  days,  cook 
his  meals,  and  study  to  bring  himself  to  some  pro- 
ficiency in  that    art    of    painting  which  he  had  recently 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  131 

determined  to  adopt.  It  did  not  take  him  long  to 
make  the  change;  he  had  soon  returned  to  the  man- 
sion with  his  modest  kit,  and  the  cabman  who  brought 
him  was  readily  induced,  by  the  young  man's  pleasant 
manner  and  a  small  gratuity,  to  assist  him  in  the  in- 
stallation of  the  iron  bed.  By  six  in  the  evening,  when 
Somerset  went  forth  to  dine,  he  was  able  to  look  back 
upon  the  mansion  with  a  sense  of  pride  and  property. 
Four-square  it  stood,  of  an  imposing  frontage,  and 
flanked  on  either  side  by  family  hatchments.  His  eye, 
from  where  he  stood  whistling  in  the  key,  with  his 
back  to  the  garden  railings,  reposed  on  every  feature 
of  reality,  and  yet  his  own  possession  seemed  as  flimsy 
as  a  dream. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  days  the  genteel  inhabitants 
of  the  square  began  to  remark  the  customs  of  their 
neighbor.  The  sight  of  a  young  gentleman  discussing 
a  clay  pipe  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  in  the 
drawing-room  balcony  of  so  discreet  a  mansion,  and 
perhaps  still  more,  his  periodical  excursion  to  a  decent 
tavern  in  the  neighbrohood,  and  his  unabashed  return, 
nursing  the  full  tankard:  had  presently  raised  to  a 
high  pitch  the  interest  and  indignation  of  the  liveried 
servants  of  the  square.  The  disfavor  of  some  of  these 
gentlemen  at  first  proceeded  to  the  length  of  insult;  but 
Somerset  knew  how  to  be  affable  with  any  class  of  men; 
and  a  few  rude  words  merrily  accepted  and  a  few  glasses 
amicably  shared,  gained  for  him  the  right  of  toleration. 

The  young  man  had  embraced  the  art  of  Raphael, 
partly  from  a  notion  of  its  ease,  partly  from  an  inborn 
distrust  of  offices.  He  scorned  to  bear  the  yoke  of  any 
regular    schooling,    and    proceeded    to    turn    one    half    of 


132  U/or^s   of   Robert   Couij   Steueojon 

the  dining-room  into  a  studio  for  the  reproduction  of 
still  life.  There  he  amassed  a  variety  of  objects,  in- 
discriminately chosen  from  the  kitchen,  the  drawing- 
room,  and  the  back  garden,  and  there  spent  his  days 
in  smiling  assiduity.  Meantime,  the  great  bulk  of 
empty  building  overhead  lay  like  a  load  upon  his 
imagination.  To  hold  so  great  a  stake  and  to  do  noth- 
ing argued  some  defect  of  energy,  and  he  at  length 
determined  to  act  upon  the  hint  given  by  Mrs.  Lux- 
more  herself,  and  to  stick  with  wafers  in  the  window 
of  the  dining-room  a  small  hand-bill  announcing  fur- 
nished lodgings.  At  half-past  six  of  a  fine  July  morn- 
ing he  affixed  the  bill  and  went  forth  into  the  square 
to  study  the  result.  It  seemed,  to  his  eye,  promising 
and  unpretentious,  and  he  returned  to  the  drawing  room 
balcony  to  consider  over  a  studious  pipe  the  knotty 
problem  of  how  much   he   was  to  charge. 

Thereupon  he  somewhat  relaxed  in  his  devotion  to 
the  art  of  painting.  Indeed,  from  that  time  forth,  he 
would  spend  the  best  part  of  the  day  in  the  front  bal- 
cony, like  the  attentive  angler  poring  on  his  float;  and 
the  better  to  support  the  tedium,  he  would  frequently 
console  himself  with  his  clay  pipe.  On  several  occa- 
sions passers  by  appeared  to,  be  arrested  by  the  ticket, 
and  on  several  others  ladies  and  gentlemen  drove  to 
the  very  doorstep  by  the  carriageful;  but  it  appeared 
there  was  something  repulsive  in  the  appearance  of  the 
house,  for  with  one  accord  they  would  cast  but  one 
look  upward  and  hastily  resume  their  onward  progress 
or  direct  the  driver  to  proceed.  Somerset  had  thus  the 
mortification  of  actually  meeting  the  eye  of  a  large 
number    of    lodging-seekers;    and   though  he  hastened   to 


Jf?e    Dynamiter  133 

withdraw  his  pipe  and  to  compose  his  features  to  an 
air  of  invitation,  he  was  never  rewarded  by  so  much 
as  an  inquiry.  "Can  there,"  he  thought,  "be  anything 
repellent  in  myself?"  But  a  candid  examination  in  one 
of  the  pier-glasses  of  the  drawing-room  led  him  to  dis- 
miss the   fear. 

Something,  however,  was  amiss.  His  vast  and  ac- 
curate calculations  on  the  "fly-leaves  of  books,  or  on  the 
backs  of  playbills,  appeared  to  have  been  an  idle  sacri- 
fice of  time.  By  these,  he  had  variously  computed  the 
weekly  takings  of  the  house,  from  sums  as  modest  as 
five-and-twenty  shillings,  up  to  the  more  majestic  figure 
of  a  hundred  pounds;  and  yet,  in  despite  of  the  very 
elements  of  arithmetic,  here  he  was  making  literally 
nothing. 

This  incongruity  impressed  him  deeply  and  occupied 
his  thoughtful  leisure  on  the  balcony;  and  at  last  it 
seemed  to  him  that  he  had  detected  the  error  of  his 
method.  "This,"  he  reflected,  "is  an  age  of  generous 
display:  the  age  of  the  sandwich-man,  of  Griffiths,  of 
Pears'  legendary  soap,  and  of  Eno's  fruit  salt,  which, 
by  sheer  brass  and  notoriety,  and  the  most  disgusting 
pictures  I  ever  remember  to  have  seen,  has  overlaid  that 
comforter  of  my  childhood,  Lamplough's  pyretic  saline. 
Lamplough  was  genteel,  Eno  was  omnipresent;  Lam- 
plough  was  trite,  Eno  original  and  abominably  vulgar; 
and  here  have  I,  a  man  of  some  pretensions  to  knowl- 
edge of  the  world,  contented  myself  with  half  a  sheet 
of  note-paper,  a  few  cold  words  which  do  not  directly 
address  the  imagination,  and  the  adornment  (if  adorn- 
ment it  may  be  called)  of  four  red  wafers!  Am  I, 
then,   to    sink  with    Lamplough,    or    to    soar    with    Eno? 


134  U/orl^s   of   Robert   Couis   Stev/eosoo 

Am  I  to  adopt  that  modesty  which  is  doubtless  becom- 
ing in  a  duke?  or  to  take  hold  of  the  red  facts  of  life 
with   the  emphasis  of  the  tradesman  and   the   poet?" 

Pursuant  upon  these  meditations,  he  procured  several 
sheets  of  the  very  largest  size  of  drawing-paper;  and 
laying  forth  his  paints,  proceeded  to  compose  an  ensign 
that  might  attract  the  eye  and  at  the  same  time,  in 
his  own  phrase,  directly  address  the  imagination  of  the 
passenger.  Something  taking  in  the  way  of  color,  a 
good,  savory  choice  of  words,  and  a  realistic  design  set- 
ting forth  the  life  a  lodger  might  expect  to  lead  within 
the  walls  of  that  palace  of  delight:  these,  he  perceived, 
must  be  the  elements  of  his  advertisement.  It  was 
possible,  upon  the  one  hand,  to  depict  the  sober  pleas- 
ures of  domestic  life,  the  evening  fire,  blonde-headed 
urchins  and  the  hissing  urn;  but,  on  the  other,  it  was 
possible  (and  he  almost  felt  as  if  it  were  more  suited 
to  his  muse)  to  set  forth  the  charms  of  an  existence 
somewhat  wider  in  its  range,  or,  boldly  say,  the  para- 
dise of  the  Mohammedan.  So  long  did  the  artist  waver 
between  these  two  views,  that,  before  he  arrived  at  a 
conclusion,  he  had  finally  conceived  and  completed  both 
designs.  "With  the  proverbially  tender  heart  of  the 
parent,  he  found  himself  unable  to  sacrifice  either  of 
these  offspring  of  his  art;  and  decided  to  expose  them 
on  alternate  days.  "In  this  way,"  he  thought,  "  I 
shall  address  myself  indifferently  to  all  classes  of  the 
world." 

The  tossing  of  a  penny  decided  the  only  remaining 
point;  and  the  more  imaginative  canvas  received  the 
suffrages  of  fortune  and  appeared  first  in  the  window 
of    the    mansion.     It  was    of    a    high    fancy,   the   legend 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  135 

eloquently  writ,  the  scheme  of  color  taking  and  bold; 
and  but  for  the  imperfection  of  the  artist's  drawing,  it 
might  have  been  taken  for  a  model  of  its  kind.  As  it 
was,  however,  when  viewed  from  his  favorite  point 
against  the  garden  railings,  and  with  some  touch  of 
distance,  it  caused  a  pleasurable  rising  of  the  artist's 
heart.  "I  have  thrown  away,"  he  ejaculated,  "an  in- 
valuable motive;  and  this  shall  be  the  subject  of  my 
first  academy   picture." 

The  fate  of  neither  of  these  works  was  equal  to  its 
merit.  A  crowd  would  certainly,  from  time  to  time, 
collect  before  the  area-railings;  but  they  came  to  jeer 
and  not  to  speculate;  and  those  who  pushed  their  in- 
quiries further  were  too  plainly  animated  by  the  spirit 
of  derision.  The  racier  of  the  two  cartoons  displayed, 
indeed,  no  symptom  of  attractive  merit;  and  though  it 
had  a  certain  share  of  that  success  called  scandalous, 
failed  utterly  of  its  effect.  On  the  day,  however,  of 
the  second  appearance  of  the  companion  work,  a  real 
inquirer  did  actually  present  himself  before  the  eyes  of 
Somerset. 

This  was  a  gentlemanly  man,  with  some  marks  of 
recent  merriment,  and  his  voice  under  inadequate  con- 
trol. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  he,  "but  what  is  the 
meaning  of   your  extraordinary  bill?" 

"I  beg  yours,"  returned  Somerset  hotly.  "Its  mean- 
ing is  sufficiently  explicit."  And  being  now,  from  dire 
experience,  fearful  of  ridicule,  he  was  preparing  to  close 
the  door,  when  the  gentleman  thrust  his  cane  into  the 
aperture. 

"Not    so    fast,    I    beg    of    you,"   said    he.     "If    you 


136  U/orKs   of   Robert   C01115   Steuenson 

really  let  apartments,  here  is  a  possible  tenant  at  your 
door;  and  nothing  would  give  me  greater  pleasure  than 
to  see  the  accommodation  and  to  learn  your  terms." 

His  heart  joyously  beating,  Somerset  admitted  the 
visitor,  showed  him  over  the  various  apartments,  and 
with  some  return  of  his  persuasive  eloquence,  expounded 
their  attractions.  The  gentleman  was  particularly  pleased 
by   the   elegant  proportions  of   the   drawing-room. 

"This,"  he  said,  "would  suit  me  very  well.  "What, 
may  I  ask,  would  be  your  terms  a  week  for  this  floor 
and  the  one    above  it?" 

"I  was  thinking,"  returned  Somerset,  "of  a  hundred 
pounds." 

"Surely  not,"   exclaimed  the  gentleman. 

"Well,    then,"   returned   Somerset,    "fifty." 

The  gentleman  regarded  him  with  an  air  of  some 
amazement.  "You  seem  to  be  strangely  elastic  in  your 
demands,"  said  he.  "What  if  I  were  to  proceed  on 
your  own  simple  principle  of  division,  and  offer  you 
twenty-five?" 

"Done!"  cried  Somerset;  and  then,  overcome  by  a 
sudden  embarrassment,  "You  see,"  he  added,  apolo- 
getically,   "it  is   all  found  money  for  me." 

"Really?"  said  the  stranger,  looking  at  him  all  the 
while    with    growing    wonder.     "Without    extras,    then?" 

"I — I  suppose  so,"  stammered  the  keeper  of  the 
lodging-house. 

"Service  included?"    pursued  the  gentleman. 

"Service?"  cried  Somerset.  "Do  you  mean  that  you 
expect  me  to  empty  your  slops?" 

The  gentleman  regarded  him  with  a  very  friendly 
interest.     "My  dear   fellow,"   said    he,    "if  you  take  my 


Jf?e    Dynamiter  137 

advice,    you    will    give    up    this    business."     And    there- 
upon he  resumed  his  hat  and   took  himself  away. 

This  smarting  disappointment  produced  a  strong  effect 
on  the  artist  of  the  cartoons;  and  he  began  with 
shame  to  eat  up  his  rosier  illusions.  First  one  and 
then  the  other  of  his  great  works  was  condemned, 
withdrawn  from  exhibition,  and  relegated,  as  a  mere 
wall-picture,  to  the  decoration  of  the  dining-room.  Their 
place  was  taken  by  a  replica  of  the  original  waferea 
announcement,  to  which,  in  particularly  large  letters,  he 
had  added  the  pithy  rubric:  "No  service."  Meanwhile 
he  had  fallen  into  something  as  nearly  bordering  on 
low  spirits  as  was  consistent  with  his  disposition;  de- 
pressed, at  once  by  the  failure  of  his  scheme,  the 
laughable  turn  of  his  late  interview,  and  the  judicial 
blindness  of  the  public  to  the  merit  of  the  twin  car- 
toons. 

Perhaps  a  week  had  passed  before  he  was  again 
startled  by  the  note  of  the  knocker.  A  gentleman  of  a 
somewhat  foreign  and  somewhat  military  air,  yet  closely 
shaven  and  wearing  a  soft  hat,  desired  in  the  politest 
terms  to  visit  the  apartments.  He  had  (he  explained) 
a  friend,  a  gentleman  in  tender  health,  desirous  of  a 
sedate  and  solitary  life,  apart  from  interruption  and 
the  noises  of  the  common  lodging-house.  The  unusual 
clause,"  he  continued,  "in  your  announcement,  particu- 
larly struck  me.  "This,"  I  said,  "is  the  place  for  Mr. 
Jones.  You  are  yourself,  sir,  a  professional  gentleman?" 
concluded  the  visitor,  looking  keenly  in  Somerset's 
face. 

"I  am  an   artist,"   replied   the    young  man  lightly. 

"And    these,"     observed    the    other,     taking    a    side 


138  U/orKs    of   Robert    Couis    Stevenson 

glance  through  the  open  door  of  the  dining-room,  which 
they  were  then  passing,  "these  are  some  of  your  works. 
Very  remarkable."  And  he  again  and  still  more  sharply 
peered  into  the  countenance  of  the  young  man. 

Somerset,  unable  to  suppress  a  blush,  made  the  more 
haste  to  lead  his  visitor  upstairs  and  to  display  the 
apartments. 

"Excellent,"  observed  the  stranger,  as  he  looked 
from  one  of  the  back  windows.  "Is  that  a  mews 
behind,  sir?  Very  good.  "Well,  sir,  see  here.  My  friend 
will  take  your  drawing-room  floor;  he  will  sleep  in  the 
back  drawing-room;  his  nurse,  an  excellent  Irish  widow, 
will  attend  on  all  his  wants  and  occupy  a  garret;  he 
will  pay  you  the  round  sum  of  ten  dollars  a  week; 
and  you,  on  your  part,  will  engage  to  receive  no  other 
lodger?     I   think  that  fair." 

Somerset  had  scarcely  words  in  which  to  clothe  his 
gratitude  and  joy. 

"Agreed,"  said  the  other;  "and  to  spare  you  trouble, 
my  friend  will  bring  some  men  with'  him  to  make  the 
changes.  You  will  find  him  a  retiring  inmate,  sir;  re- 
ceives but  few,  and  rarely  leaves  the  house  except  at 
night." 

"Since  I  have  been  in  this  house,"  returned  Som- 
erset, "I  have  myself,  unless  it  were  to  fetch  beer, 
rarely  gone  abroad  except  in  the  evening.  But  a  man," 
he  added,    "must  have  some  amusement." 

An  hour  was  then  agreed  on;  the  gentleman  de- 
parted; and  Somerset  sat  down  to  compute  in  English 
money  the  value  of  the  figure  named.  The  result  of 
this  investigation  filled  him  with  amazement  and  disgust; 
but    it  was  now  too    late;    nothing    remained  but  to  en- 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  139 

dure;  and  he  awaited  the  arrival  of  his  tenant,  still 
trying,  by  various  arithmetical  expedients,  to  obtain  a 
more  favorable  quotation  for  the  dollar.  With  the  ap- 
proach of  dusk,  however,  his  impatience  drove  him  once 
more  to  the  front  balcony.  The  night  fell,  mild  and 
airless;  the  lamps  shone  around  the  central  darkness  of 
the  garden;  and  through  the  tall  grove  of  trees  that 
intervened,  many  warmly  illuminated  windows  on  the 
further  side  of  the  square  told  their  tale  of  white 
napery,  choice  wine,  and  genial  hospitality.  The  stars 
were  already  thickening  overhead,  when  the  young  man's 
eyes  alighted  on  a  procession  of  three  four-wheelers, 
coasting  round  the  garden  railing  and  bound  for  the 
Superfluous  Mansion.  They  were  laden  with  formidable 
boxes;  moving  in  a  military  order,  one  following  another; 
and,  by  the  extreme  slowness  of  their  advance,  inspired 
Somerset  with  the  most  serious  ideas  of  his  tenant's 
malady. 

By  the  time  he  had  the  door  open,  the  cabs  had 
drawn  up  beside  the  pavement;  and  from  the  two  first 
there  had  alighted  the  military  gentleman  of  the  morn- 
ing and  two  very  stalwart  porters.  These  proceeded 
instantly  to  take  possession  of  the  house;  with  their 
own  hands,  and  firmly  rejecting  Somerset's  assistance, 
they  carried  in  the  various  crates  and  boxes;  with  their 
own  hands  dismounted  and  transferred  to  the  back 
drawing-room  the  bed  in  which  the  tenant  was  to  sleep; 
and  it  was  not  until  the  bustle  of  arrival  had  subsided, 
and  the  arrangements  were  complete,  that  there  de- 
scended, from  the  third  of  the  three  vehicles,  a  gentle- 
man of  great  stature  and  broad  shoulders,  leaning  on 
the  shoulder  of  a  woman  in  a  widow's  dress,  and   hijn- 


140  U/or^s    of   Robert    Couis    Steuepsoi) 

self  covered  by  a  long  cloak  and  muffled  in  a  colored 
comforter. 

Somerset  had  but  a  glimpse  of  him  in  passing;  he 
was  soon  shut  into  the  back  drawing-room;  the  other 
men  departed;  silence  redescended  on  the  house;  and 
had  not  the  nurse  appeared  a  little  before  half-past  ten, 
and,  with  a  strong  brogue,  asked  if  there  were  a  decent 
public-house  in  the  neighborhood,  Somerset  might  have 
still  supposed  himself  to  be  alone  in  the  Superfluous 
Mansion. 

Day  followed  day:  and  still  the  young  man  had 
never  come  by  speech  or  sight  of  his  mysterious  lodger. 
The  doors  of  the  drawing-room  flat  were  never  open; 
and  although  Somerset  could  hear  him  moving  to  and 
fro,  the  tall  man  never  quitted  the  privacy  of  his 
apartments.  Visitors,  indeed,  arrived;  sometimes  in  the 
dusk,  sometimes  at  intempestuous  hours  of  night  or 
morning;  men,  for  the  most  part;  some  meanly  attired, 
some  decently;  some  loud,  some  cringing;  and  yet  all, 
in  the  eyes  of  Somerset,  displeasing.  A  certain  air  of 
fear  and  secrecy  was  common  to  them  all;  they  were 
all  voluble,  he  thought,  and  ill  at  ease;  even  the  mili- 
tary gentleman  proved,  on  a  closer  inspection,  to  be  no 
gentleman  at  all;  and  as  for  the  doctor  who  attended 
the  sick  man,  his  manners  were  not  suggestive  of  a 
university  career.  The  nurse,  again,  was  scarcely  a 
desirable  house-fellow.  Since  her  arrival,  the  fall  of 
whisky  in  the  young  man's  private  bottle  was  much 
accelerated;  and  though  never  communicative,  she  was 
at  times  unpleasantly  familiar.  When  asked  about  the 
patient's  health,  she  would  dolorously  shake  her  head,  and 
declare  that  the  poor  gentleman  was  in  a  pitiful  condition. 


Jtye    Dynamiter  141 

Yet  somehow  Somerset  had  early  begun  to  entertain 
the  notion  that  his  complaint  was  other  than  bodily. 
The  ill  looking  birds  that  gathered  to  the  house,  the 
strange  noises  that  sounded  from  the  drawing-room  in 
the  dead  hours  of  night,  the  careless  attendance  and 
intemperate  habits  of  the  nurse,  the  entire  absence  of 
correspondence,  the  entire  seclusion  of  Mr.  Jones  him- 
self, whose  face,  up  to  that  hour,  he  could  not  have 
sworn  to  in  a  court  of  justice — all  weighed  unpleasantly 
upon  the  young  man's  mind.  A  sense  of  something 
evil,  irregular  and  underhand,  haunted  and  depressed 
him;  and  this  uneasy  sentiment  was  the  more  firmly 
rooted  in  his  mind,  when,  in  the  fullness  of  time,  he 
had  an  opportunity  of  observing  the  features  of  his  ten- 
ant. It  fell  in  this  way.  The  young  landlord  was 
awakened  about  four  in  the  morning  by  a  noise  in  the 
hall.  Leaping  to  his  feet,  and  opening  the  door  of  the 
library,  he  saw  the  tall  man,  candle  in  hand,  in  earnest 
conversation  with  the  gentleman  who  had  taken  the 
rooms.  The  faces  of  both  were  strongly  illuminated; 
and  in  that  of  his  tenant  Somerset  could  perceive  none 
of  the  marks  of  disease,  but  every  sign  of  health, 
energy  and  resolution.  While  he  was  still  looking,  the 
visitor  took  his  departure;  and  the  invalid,  having  care- 
fully fastened  the  front  door,  sprang  up  stairs  without 
a  trace   of  lassitude. 

That  night  upon  his  pillow,  Somerset  began  to  kindle 
once  more  into  the  hot  fit  of  the  detective  fever;  and 
the  next  morning  resumed  the  practice  of  his  art  with 
careless  hand  and  an  abstracted  mind.  The  day  was 
destined  to  be  fertile  in  surprises;  nor  had  he  long 
been  seated   at  the  easel  ere  the  first  of  these  occurred. 


142  U/orl^s    of   Robert    Couis    Steuenson 

A  cab  laden  with  baggage  drew  up  before  the  door; 
and  Mrs.  Luxmore  in  person  rapidly  mounted  the  steps 
and  began  to  pound  upon  the  knocker.  Somerset  hast- 
ened to  attend  the  summons. 

"My  dear  fellow,"  she  said,  with  the  utmost  gayety, 
"here  I  come  dropping  from  the  moon.  I  am  delighted 
to  find  you  faithful;  and  I  have  no  doubt  you  will  be 
equally  pleased  to   be  restored  to  liberty." 

Somerset  could  find  no  words,  whether  of  protest  or 
welcome;  and  the  spirited  old  lady  pushed  briskly  by 
him  and  paused  on  the  threshold  of  the  dining-room. 
The  sight  that  met  her  eyes  was  one  well  calculated  to 
inspire  astonishment.  The  mantel-piece  was  arrayed  with 
sauce-pans  and  empty  bottles;  on  the  fire  some  chops 
were  frying;  the  floor  was  littered  from  end  to  end 
with  books,  clothes,  walking-canes  and  the  materials  of 
the  painter's  craft;  but  what  far  outstripped  the  other 
wonders  of  the  place  was  the  corner  which  had  been 
arranged  for  the  study  of  still-life.  This  formed  a  sort 
of  rockery;  conspicuous  upon  which,  according  to  the 
principles  of  the  art  of  composition,  a  cabbage  was 
relieved  against  a  copper  kettle,  and  both  contrasted 
with   the  mail  of  a  boiled  lobster. 

"My  gracious  goodness!"  cried  the  lady  of  the  house; 
and  then,  turning  in  wrath  on  the  young  man,  "From 
what  rank  in  life  are  you  sprung?"  she  demanded. 
"You  have  the  exterior  of  a  gentleman;  but  from  the 
astonishing  evidences  before  me,  I  should  say  you  can 
only  be  a  green-grocer's  man.  Pray,  gather  up  your 
vegetables,    and  let  me  see  no  more  of  you." 

"Madam,"  babbled  Somerset,  "you  promised  me  a 
month's  warning." 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  143 

"That  was  under  a  misapprehension,"  returned  the 
old  lady,    "I  now  give  you   warning  to  leave  at  once." 

"Madam,"  said  the  young  man,  "I  wish  I  could; 
and  indeed,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  it  might  be  done. 
But  then,    my   lodger!" 

"Your  lodger?"   echoed   Mrs.    Luxmore. 

"My  lodger;  why  should  I  deny  it?"  returned  Som- 
erset.    "He  is  only  here  by  the    week." 

The  old  lady  sat  down  upon  a  chair.  "You  have 
a  lodger? — you?"  she  cried.  "And  pray;  how  did  you 
get  him?" 

"By  advertisement,"  replied  the  young  man.  "Oh. 
madam,  I  have  not  lived  unobservantly.  I  adopted" — 
his  eyes  involuntarily  shifted  to  the  cartoons — "I  adopted 
every  method." 

Her  eyes  had  followed  his;  for  the  first  time  in  Som- 
erset's experience,  she  produced  a  double  eyeglass;  and 
as  soon  as  the  full  merit  of  the  works  flashed  upon 
her,  she  gave  way  to  peal  after  peal  of  her  trilling 
and   soprano    laughter. 

"Oh,  I  think  you  are  perfectly  delicious!"  she  cried. 
"I  do  hope  you  had  them  in  the  window.  M'Pherson," 
she  continued,  crying  to  her  maid,  who  had  been  all 
this  time  grimly  waiting  in  the  hall,  "I  lunch  with 
Mr.  Somerset.  Take  the  cellar  key  and  bring  some 
wine." 

In  this  gay  humor,  she  continued  throughout  the 
luncheon;  presented  Somerset  with  a  couple  of  dozen  of 
wine,  which  she  made  M'Pherson  bring  up  from  the 
cellar — "as  a  present,  my  dear,"  she  said,  with  another 
burst  of  tearful  merriment,  "for  your  charming  pictures, 
which    you    must    be    sure  to  leave  me   when  you  go;" 


144  U/orKs  of  Robert  Couis  Stevenson 

aud  finally,  protesting  that  she  dared  not  spoil  the  ab- 
surdest  houseful  of  madmen  in  the  whole  of  London, 
departed  (as  she  vaguely  phrased  it)  for  the  continent 
of   Europe. 

She  was  no  sooner  gone,  than  Somerset  encountered 
in  the  corridor  the  Irish  nurse;  sober,  to  all  appearance, 
and  yet  a  prey  to  singularly  strong  emotion.  It  was 
made  to  appear,  from  her  account,  that  Mr.  Jones  had 
already  suffered  acutely  in  his  health  from  Mrs.  Lux- 
more's  visit,  and  that  nothing  short  of  a  full  explana- 
tion could  allay  the  invalid's  uneasiness.  Somerset, 
somewhat  staring,  told  what  he  thought  fit  of  the 
affair. 

"Is  that  all?"  cried  the  woman.     "As   God   sees  you 
is   that  all?" 

"My  good  woman,"  said  the  young  man,  "I  have 
no  idea  what  you  can  be  driving  at.  Suppose  the  lady 
were  my  friend's  wife,  suppose  she  were  my  fairy  god- 
mother, suppose  she  were  the  Queen  of  Portugal;  and 
how  should   that  affect  yourself  or   Mr.    Jones?" 

"Blessed  Mary!"  cried  the  nurse,  "it's  he  that  will 
be  glad  to  hear  it!" 

And  immediately  she  fled   upstairs. 

Somerset,  on  his  part,  returned  to  the  dining  room, 
and  with  a  very  thoughtful  brow  and  ruminating  many 
theories,  disposed  of  the  remainder  of  the  bottle.  It 
was  port;  and  port  is  a  wine,  sole  among  its  equals 
and  superiors,  that  can  in  some  degree  support  the  com- 
petition of  tobacco.  Sipping,  smoking,  and  theorizing, 
Somerset  moved  on  from  suspicion  to  suspicion,  from 
resolve  to  resolve,  still  growing  braver  and  rosier  as 
the    bottle    ebbed.     He  was    a    skeptic,    none    prouder   of 


Jl?e    Dypa/niter  145 

the  name;  he  had  no  horror  at  command,  whether  for 
crimes  or  vices,  but  beheld  and  embraced  the  world, 
with  an  immoral  approbation,  the  frequent  consequence 
of  youth  and  health.  At  the  same  time  he  felt  convinced 
that  he  dwelt  under  the  same  roof  with  secret  male- 
factors; and  the  unregenerate  instinct  of  the  chase  im- 
pelled him  to  severity.  The  bottle  had  run  low;  the 
summer  sun  had  finally  withdrawn;  and  at  the  same 
moment,  night  and  the  pangs  of  hunger  recalled  him 
from   his  dreams. 

He  went  forth,  and  dined  in  the  Criterion:  a  dinner 
in  consonance,  not  so  much  with  his  purse,  as  with 
the  admirable  wine  he  had  discussed.  What  with  one 
thing  and  another,  it  was  long  past  midnight  when  he 
returned  home.  A  cab  was  at  the  door;  and  entering 
the  hall,  Somerset  found  himself  face  to  face  with  one 
of  the  most  regular  of  the  few  who  visited  Mr.  Jones: 
a  man  of  powerful  figure,  strong  lineaments,  and  a 
chin-beard  in  the  American  fashion.  This  person  was 
carrying  on  one  shoulder  a  black  portmanteau,  seem- 
ingly of  considerable  weight.  That  he  should  find  a 
visitor  removing  baggage  in  the  dead  of  night  recalled 
some  odd  stories  to  the  young  man's  memory;  he  had 
heard  of  lodgers  who  thus  gradually  drained  away,  not 
only  their  own  effects,  but  the  very  furniture  and  fit- 
tings of  the  house  that  sheltered  them;  and  now,  in  a 
mood  between  pleasantry  and  suspicion,  and  aping  the 
manner  of  a  drunkard,  he  roughly  bumped  against  the 
man  with  the  chin-beard  and  knocked  the  portmanteau 
from  his  shoulder  to  the  floor.  "With  a  face  struck 
suddenly  as  white  as  paper,  the  man  wit"h  the  chin- 
beard    called    lamentably    on    the    name    of    his    maker, 

10-  Vol.  XIV. 


146  U/orKs    of   Robert    Couis    Steueosoo 

and  fell  in  a  mere  heap  on  the  mat  at  the  foot  of  the 
stairs.  At  the  same  time,  though  only  for  a  single 
instant,  the  heads  of  the  sick  lodger  and  the  Irish 
nurse  popped  out  like  rabbits  over  the  banisters  of  the 
first  floor;  and  on  both  the  same  scare  and  pallor  were 
apparent. 

The  eight  of  this  incredible  emotion  turned  Somerset 
to  stone,  and  be  continued  speechless,  while  the  man 
gathered  himself  together,  and  with  the  help  of  the 
handrail  and  audibly  thanking  God,  scrambled  once 
more   upon  his  feet. 

"What  in  Heaven's  name  ails  you?"  gasped  the 
young  man,  as  soon  as  he  could  find  words  and  utter- 
ance. 

"Have  you  a  drop  of  brandy?"  returned  the  other. 
"I   am  sick." 

Somerset  administered  two  drams,  one  after  the 
other,  to  the  man  with  the  chin-beard;  who  then, 
somewhat  restored,  began  to  confound  himself  in  apol- 
ogies for  what  he  called  his  miserable  nervousness,  the 
result,  he  said,  of  a  long  course  of  dumb  ague;  and 
having  taken  leave  with  a  hand  that  still  sweated  and 
trembled,  he  gingerly  resumed  his  burden  and   departed. 

Somerset  retired  to  bed  but  not  to  sleep.  What,  he 
asked  himself,  had  been  the  contents  of  the  black  port- 
manteau? Stolen  goods?  the  carcass  of  one  murdered? 
or — and  at  the  thought  he  sat  upright  in  bed — an  in- 
fernal machine?  He  took  a  solemn  vow  that  he  would 
set  these  doubts  at  rest;  and  with  the  next  morning, 
installed  himself  beside  the  dining-room  window,  vigi- 
lant with  eye  and  ear,  to  await  and  profit  by  the  earli- 
est opportunity. 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  147 

The  hours  went  heavily  by.  Within  the  house  there 
was  no  circumstance  of  novelty;  unless  it  might  be 
that  the  nurse  more  frequently  made  little  journeys 
round  the  corner  of  the  square,  and  before  afternoon 
was  somewhat  loose  of  speech  and  gait.  A  little  after 
six,  however,  there  came  round  the  corner  of  the  gar- 
dens a  very  handsome  and  elegantly  dressed  young 
woman,  who  paused  a  little  way  off,  and  for  some 
time,  and  with  frequent  sighs,  contemplated  the  front 
of  the  Superfluous  Mansion.  It  was  not  the  first  time 
that  she  had  thus  stood  afar  and  looked  upon  it,  like 
our  common  parents  at  the  gates  of  Eden;  and  the 
young  man  had  already  had  occasion  to  remark  the 
lively  slimness  of  her  carriage,  and  had  already  been 
the  butt  of  a  chance  arrow  from  her  eye.  He  hailed 
her  coming,  then,  with  pleasant  feelings,  and  moved  a 
little  nearer  to  the  window  to  enjoy  the  sight.  "What 
was  his  surprise,  however,  when,  as  if  with  a  sensible 
effort,  she  drew  near,  mounted  the  steps  and  tapped 
discreetly  at  the  door!  He  made  haste  to  get  before 
the  Irish  nurse,  who  was  not  improbably  asleep,  and 
had  the  satisfaction  to  receive  this  gracious  visitor  in 
person. 

She  inquired  for  Mr.  Jones;  and  then,  without  tran- 
sition, asked  the  young  man  if  he  were  the  person  of 
the  house  (and  at  the  words,  he  thought  he  could  per- 
ceive her  to  be  smiling),  "because,"  she  added,  "if 
you  are,  I  should  like  to  see  some  of  the  other  rooms." 

Somerset  told  her  he  was  under  an  engagement  to 
receive  no  lodgers;  but  she  assured  him  that  would  be 
no  matter,  as  these  were  friends  of  Mr.  Jones's. 
"And,"   she    continued,    moving  suddenly   to   the  dining- 


148  U/orKs   of   Robert    C0U15    Stevenson 

room  door,  "let  us  begin  here."  Somerset  was  too  late 
to  prevent  her  entering,  and  perhaps  he  lacked  the 
courage   to   essay.     "Ah!"     she    cried,    "how   changed   it 


is 


i»i 


"Madam,"  cried  the  young  man,  "since  your  en- 
trance,  it  is   I   who  have   the   right  to   say   so." 

She  received  this  inane  compliment  with  a  demure 
and  conscious  droop  of  the  eyelids,  and  gracefully  steer- 
ing her  dress  among  the  mingled  litter,  now  with  a 
smile,  now  with  a  sigh,  reviewed  the  wonders  of  the 
two  apartments.  She  gazed  upon  the  cartoons  with 
sparkling  eyes,  and  a  heightened  color,  and  in  a  some-- 
what  breathless  voice  expressed  a  high  opinion  of  their 
merits.  She  praised  the  effective  disposition  of  the  rock- 
ery, and  in  the  bedroom,  of  which  Somerset  had  vainly 
endeavored  to  defend  the  entry,  she  fairly  broke  forth 
in  admiration.  "How  simple  and  manly!"  she  cried: 
"none  of  that  effeminacy  of  neatness,  which  is  so  de- 
testable in  a  man!"  Hard  upon  this,  telling  him,  be- 
fore he  had  time  to  reply,  that  she  very  well  knew 
her  way,  and  would  trouble  him  no  further,  £he  took 
her  leave  with  an  engaging  smile,  and  ascended  the 
staircase  alone. 

For  more  than  an  hour,  the  young  lady  remained 
closeted  with  Mr.  Jones;  and  at  the  end  of  that  time, 
the  night  being  now  come  completely,  they  left  the 
house  in  company.  This  was  the  first  time  since  the 
arrival  of  his  lodger  that  Somerset  had  found  himself 
alone  with  the  Irish  widow;  and  without  the  loss  of 
any  more  time  than  was  required  by  decency,  he 
stepped  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs  and  hailed  her  by 
her     name.      She    came     instantly,     wreathed    in     weak 


Jt?e    Dynamiter  149 

smiles  and  with  a  nodding  head;  and  when  the  young 
man  politely  offered  to  introduce  her  to  the  treasures 
of  his  art,  she  swore  that  nothing  could  afford  her 
greater  pleasure,  for,  though  she  had  never  crossed  the 
threshold,  she  had  frequently  observed  his  beautiful  pict- 
ures through  the  door.  On  entering  the  dining-room, 
the  sight  of  a  bottle  and  two  glasses  prepared  her  to 
be  a  gentle  critic ;  and  as  soon  as  the  pictures  had 
been  viewed  and  praised,  she  was  easily  persuaded  to 
join  the  painter  in  a  single  glass.  "Here,"  she  said, 
"are  my  respects;  and  a  pleasure  it  is,  in  this  horrible 
house,  to  see  a  gentleman  like  yourself,  so  affable  and 
free,  and  a  very  nice  painter,  I  am  sure."  One  glass 
so  agreeably  prefaced  was  sure  to  lead  to  the  accept- 
ance of  a  second;  at  the  third,  Somerset  was  free  to 
cease  from  the  affectation  of  keeping  her  company;  and 
as  for  the  fourth,  she  asked  it-  of  her  own  accord. 
"For*  indeed,"  said  she,  "what  with  all  these  clocks 
and  chemicals,  without  a  drop  of  the  creature  life 
would  be  impossible  entirely.  And  you  seen  yourself 
that  even.  M'Guire  was  glad  to  beg  for  it.  And  even 
himself,  when  he  is  downhearted  with  all  these  cruel 
disappointments,  though  as  temperate  a  man  as  any 
child,  will  be  sometimes  crying  for  a  glass  of  it.  And 
I'll  thank  you  for  a  thimbleful  to  settle  what  I  got." 
Soon  after,  she  began  with  tears  to  narrate  the  death- 
bed dispositions  and  lament  the  trifling  assets  of  her 
husband.  Then  she  declared  she  heard  "the  master" 
calling  her,  rose  to  her  feet,  made  but  one  lurch  of  it 
into  the  still-life  rockery,  and  with  her  head  upon  the 
lobster,    fell  into   stertorous   slumbers. 

Somerset    mounted    at    once    to    the    first    story,    and 


150  U/orKs    of   Robert    Couis    Steueosoo 

opened  the  door  of  the  drawing-room,  which  was  bril- 
liantly lighted  by  several  lamps.  It  was  a  great  apart- 
ment; looking  on  the  square  with  three  tall  windows, 
and  joined  by  a  pair  of  ample  folding-doors  to  the 
next  room ;  elegant  in  proportion,  papered  in  sea  green, 
furnished  in  velvet  of  a  delicate  blue,  and  adorned 
with  a  majestic  mantel-piece,  of  variously  tinted  mar- 
bles. Such  was  the  room  that  Somerset  remembered; 
that  which  he  now  beheld  was  changed  in  almost  every 
feature:  the  furniture  covered  with  a  figured  chintz; 
the  walls  hung  with  a  rhubarb  colored  paper,  and  di- 
versified by  the  curtained  recesses  for  no  less  than 
seven  windows.  It  seemed  to  himself  that  he  must 
have  entered,  without  observing  the  transition,  into  the 
adjoining  house.  Presently  from  these  more  specious 
changes,  his  eye  condescended  to  the  many  curious  ob- 
jects with  which  the  floor  was  littered.  Here  were  the 
locks  of  dismounted  pistols;  clocks  and  clockwork  in 
every  stage  of  demolition,  some  still  busily  ticking, 
some  reduced  to  their  dainty  elements*,  a  great  com- 
pany of  carboys,  jars  and  bottles;  a  carpenter's  bench 
and  a  laboratory-table. 

The  back  drawing-room,  to  which  Somerset  pro- 
ceeded, had  likewise  undergone  a  change.  It  was 
transformed  to  the  exact  appearance  of  a  common 
lodging-house  bedroom;  a  bed  with  green  curtains  oc- 
cupied one  corner;  and  the  window  was  blocked  by 
the  regulation  table  and  mirror.  The  door  of  a  small 
closet  here  attracted  the  young  man's  attention;  and 
striking  a  vesta,  he  opened  it  and  entered.  On  a  table 
several  wigs  and  beards  were  lying  spread;  about  the 
walls    hung    an    incongruous    display  of    suits   and  over- 


Jt?e    Dynamiter  151 

coats;  and  conspicuous  among  the  last  the  young  man 
observed  a  large  overall  of  the  most  costly  sealskin.  In 
a  flash  his  mind  reverted  to  the  advertisement  in  the 
"Standard"  newspaper.  The  great  height  of  his  lodger, 
the  disproportionate  breadth  of  his  shoulders,  and  the 
strange  particulars  of  his  installment,  all  pointed  to  the 
same  conclusion. 

The  vesta  had  now  burned  to  his  fingers;  and  tak- 
ing the  coat  upon  his  arm,  Somerset  hastily  returned 
to  the  lighted  drawing-room.  There,  with  a  mixture  of 
fear  and  admiration,  he  pored  upon  its  goodly  propor- 
tions and  the  regularity  and  softness  of  the  pile.  The 
sight  of  a  large  pier-glass  put  another  fancy  in  his 
head.  He  donned  the  fur-coat;  and  standing  before 
the  mirror  in  an  attitude  suggestive  of  a  Russian 
prince,  he  thrust  his  hands  into  the  ample  pockets. 
There  his  fingers  encountered  a  folded  journal.  He 
drew  it  out,  and  recognized  the  type  and  paper  of  the 
"Standard";  and  at  the  same  instant,  his  eyes  alighted 
on  the  offer  of  two  hundred  pounds.  Plainly,  then,  his 
lodger,  now  no  longer  mysterious,  had  laid  aside  his 
coat  on  the  very  day  of  the  appearance  of  the  adver- 
tisement. 

He  was  thus  standing,  the  tell-tale  coat  upon  his 
back,  the  incriminating  paper  in  his  hand,  when  the 
door  opened  and  the  tall  lodger,  with  a  firm  but  some- 
what pallid  face,  stepped  into  the  room  and  closed  the 
door  behind  him.  For  some  time,  the  two  looked  upou 
each  other  in  perfect  silence;  then  Mr.  Jones  moved 
forward  to  the  table,  took  a  seat,  and,  still  without 
once  changing  the  direction  of  his  eyes,  addressed  the 
young   man. 


152  U/orKs  of  Robert  Couis  Stevensoi) 

"You  are  right,"  he  said.  "It  is  for  me  the  blood- 
money  is  offered.     And  now  what   will   you  do?" 

It  was  a  question  to  which  Somerset  was  far  from 
being  able  to  reply.  Taken  as  he  was  at  unawares, 
masquerading  in  the  man's  own  coat,  and  surrounded 
by  a  whole  arsenal  of  diabolical  explosives,  the  keeper 
of  the  lodging-house  was  silenced. 

"Yes,"  resumed  the  other,  "I  am  he.  I  am  that 
man,  whom,  with  impotent  hate  and  fear,  they  still 
hunt  from  den  to  den,  from  disguise  to  disguise.  Yes, 
my  landlord,  you  have  it  in  your  power,  if  you  be 
poor,  to  lay  the  basis  of  your  fortune;  if  you  be  un- 
known, to  capture  honor  at  one  snatch.  You  have 
hocussed  an  innocent  widow;  and  I  find  you  here  in 
my  apartment,  for  whose  use  I  pay  you  in  stamped 
money,  searching  my  wardrobe,  and  your  hand — shame, 
sir! — your  hand  in  my  very  pocket.  You  can  now 
complete  the  cycle  of  your  ignominious  acts  by  what 
will  be  at  once  the  simplest,  the  safest  and  most  re- 
munerative." The  speaker  paused  as  if  to  emphasize 
his  words;  and  then,  with  a  great  change  of  tone  and 
manner,  thus  resumed:  "And  yet,  sir,  when  I  look 
upon  your  face,  I  feel  certain  that  I  cannot  be  de- 
ceived: certain  that,  in  spite  of  all,  I  have  the  honor 
and  pleasure  of  speaking  to  a  gentleman,  Take  off  my 
coat,  sir — which  but  cumbers  you.  Divest  yourself  of 
this  confusion:  that  which  is  but  thought  upon,  thank 
God,  need  be  no  burden  to  the  conscience;  we  have  all 
harbored  guilty  thoughts;  and  if  it  flashed  into  your 
mind  to  sell  my  flesh  and  blood,  my  anguish  in  the 
dock,  and  the  sweat  of  my  death  agony — it  was  a 
thought,   dear  sir,   you  were  as   incapable   of    acting  on, 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  153 

as  I  of  any  further  question  of  your  honor."  At  these 
words,  the  speaker,  with  a  veiy  open,  smiling  counte- 
nance, like  a  forgiving  father,  offered  Somerset  his 
hand. 

It  was  not  in  the  young  man's  nature  to  refuse 
forgiveness  or  dissect  generosity.  He  instantly,  and 
almost  without  thought,    accepted  the  proffered  grasp. 

"And  now,"  resumed  the  lodger,  "now  that  I  hold 
in  mine  your  loyal  hand,  I  lay  by  my  apprehensions, 
I  dismiss  suspicion,  I  go  further— by  an  effort  of  will, 
I  banish  the  memory  of  what  is  past.  How  you  came 
here,  I  care  not:  enough  that  you  are  here — as  my 
guest.  Sit  ye  down;  and  let  us,  with  your  good  per- 
mission, improve  acquaintance  over  a  glass  of  excellent 
whisky." 

So  speaking,  he  produced  glasses  and  a  bottle;  and 
the  pair   pledged   each   other  in   silence. 

"Confess,"  observed  the  smiling  host,  "you  were 
surprised  at  the   appearance  of  the  room." 

"I  was  indeed,"  said  Somerset;  "nor  can  I  imagine 
the  purpose  of  these  changes." 

"These,"  replied  the  conspirator,  "are  the  devices  by 
which  I  continue  to  exist.  Conceive  me  now,  accused 
before  one  of  your  unjust  tribunals;  conceive  the  vari- 
ous witnesses  appearing,  and  the  singular  variety  of  their 
reports!  One  will  have  visited  me  in  this  drawing-room 
as  it  originally  stood;  a  second  finds  it  as  it  is  to- 
night; and  to-morrow  or  next  day,  all  may  have  been 
changed.  If  you  love  romance  (as  artists  do),  few  lives 
are  more  romantic  than  that  of  the  obscure  individual 
now  addressing  you.  Obscure  yet  famous.  Mine  is  an 
anonymous,     infernal     glory.      By     infamous     means,     I 


154  U/orl^s   of   Robert   Couig   Steuepsop 

work  toward  my  bright  purpose.  I  found  the  liberty 
and  peace  of  a  poor  country  desperately  abused;  the 
future  smiles  upon  that  land;  yet,  in  the  meantime,  I 
lead  the  existence  of  a  hunted  brute,  work  toward  ap- 
palling ends,    and  practice   hell's  dexterities." 

Somerset,  glass  in  hand,  contemplated  the  strange 
fanatic  before  him,  and  listened  to  his  heated  rhapsody 
with  indescribable  bewilderment.  He  looked  him  in 
the  face  with  curious  particularity;  saw  there  the  marks 
of  education;    and   wondered  the  more  profoundly. 

"Sir,"  he  said — "for  I  know  not  whether  I  should 
still   address  you  as   Mr.  Jones — " 

"Jones,  Breitman,  Higginbotham,  Pumpernickel, 
Daviot,  Henderland,  by  all  or  any  of  these  you  may 
address  me,"  said  the  plotter;  "for  all  I  have  at  some 
time  borne.  Yet  that  which  I  most  prize,  that  which 
is  most  feared,  hated  and  obeyed,  is  not  a  name  to  be 
found  in  your  directories;  it  is  not  a  name  current  in 
post-offices  or  banks;  and  indeed,  like  the  celebrated 
clan  M'Gregor,  I  may  justly  describe  myself  as  being 
nameless  by  day.  But,"  he  continued,  rising  to  his 
feet,  "by  night,  and  among  my  desperate  followers,  I 
am   the  redoubted   Zero." 

Somerset  was  unacquainted  with  the  name;  but  he 
politely  expressed  surprise  and  gratification.  "I  am  to 
understand,"  he  continued,  "that,  under  this  alias,  you 
follow  the  profession  of  a  dynamiter?"* 

*  The  Arabian  author  of  the  original  has  here  a  long 
passage  conceived  in  a  style  too  oriental  for  the  English 
reader.  We  subjoin  a  specimen,  and  it  seems  doubtful 
whether   it    should   be   printed  as  prose  or  verse;    "Any 


Jf?e    Dynamiter  155 

The  plotter  had  resumed  his  seat  and  now  replen- 
ished  the   glasses. 

"I  do,"  he  said.  "In  this  dark  period  of  time,  a 
star — the  star  of  dynamite — has  risen  for  the  oppressed; 
and  among  those  who  practice  its  use,  so  thick  beset 
with  dangers  and  attended  by  such  incredible  difficulties 
and  disappointments,  few  have  been  more  assiduous,  and 
not  many — "  He  paused,  and  a  shade  of  embarrassment 
appeared  upon  his  face — "not  many  have  been  more 
successful   than  myself." 

"I  can  imagine,"  observed  Somerset,  "that,  from 
the  sweeping  consequences  looked  for,  the  career  is  not 
devoid  of  interest.  You  have,  besides,  some  of  the 
entertainment  of  the  game  of  hide  and  seek.  But  it 
would  still  seem  to  me — I  speak  as  a  layman-— that 
nothing  could  be  simpler  or  safer  than  to  deposit  an 
infernal  machine  and  retire  to  an  adjacent  county  to 
await  the   painful  consequences." 

"You  speak,  indeed,"  returned  the  plotter,  with 
some  evidence  of  warmth,  "you  speak,  indeed,  most 
ignorantly.  Do  you  make  nothing,  then,  of  such  a 
peril  as  we  share  this  moment?  Do  you  think  it  noth- 
ing to  occupy  a  house  like  this  one,  mined,  menaced, 
and,    in  a   word,    literally   tottering   to  its  fall?" 

"Good   God!"    ejaculated   Somerset. 

"And  when  you  speak  of  ease,"     pursued   Zero,    "in 

writard  who  writes  dynamitard  shall  find  in  me  a  never- 
resting  fightard;"  and  he  goes  on  (if  we  correctly  gather 
his  meaning)  to  object  to  such  elegant  and  obviously  cor- 
rect spellings  as  lamp-lightard,  corn-dealard,  apple-filchard 
(clearly  justified  by  the  parallel — pilchard)  and  opera  dancard. 
"  Dynamitist, "  he  adds,  "I  could  understand." 


156  U/orl^s    of   Robert    Couis   Steueosoo 

this  age  of  scientific  studies,  you  fill  me  with  surprise. 
Are  you  not  aware  that  chemicals  are  proverbially  as 
fickle  as  woman,  and  clockwork  as  capricious  as  the 
very  devil?  Do  you  see  on  my  brow  these  furrows  of 
anxiety?  do  you  observe  the  silver  threads  that  mingle 
with  my  hair?  Clockwork,  clockwork  has  stamped  them 
on  my  brow — chemicals  have  sprinkled  them  upon  my 
locks!  No,  Mr.  Somerset,"  he  resumed,  after  a  mo- 
ment's pause,  his  voice  still  quivering  with  sensibility, 
"you  must  not  suppose  the  dynamiter's  life  to  be  all 
gold.  On  the  contrary:  you  cannot  picture  to  yourself 
the  bloodshot  vigils  and  the  staggering  disappointments 
of  a  life  like  mine.  I  have  toiled  (let  us  say)  for 
months,  up  early  and  down  late;  my  bag  is  ready, 
my  clock  set;  a  daring  agent  has  hurried  with  white 
face  to  deposit  the  instrument  of  ruin;  we  await  the 
fall  of  England,  the  massacre  of  thousands,  the  yell  of 
fear  and  execration;  and  lo!  a  snap  like  that  of  a 
child's  pistol,  an  offensive  smell,  and  the  entire  loss  of 
so  much  time  and  plant!  If,"  he  continued,  musingly, 
"we  had  been  merely  able  to  recover  the  lost  bags,  I 
believe  with  but  a  touch  or  two  I  could  have  remedied 
the  peccant  engine.  But  what  with  the  loss  of  plant 
and  the  almost  insuperable  scientific  difficulties  of  the 
task,  our  friends  in  France  are  almost  ready  to  desert 
the  chosen  medium.  They  propose,  instead,  to  break  up 
the  drainage  system  of  cities  and  sweep  off  whole 
populations  with  the  devastating  typhoid  pestilence:  a 
tempting  and  a  scientific  project:  a  process,  indiscrimi- 
nate indeed,  but  of  idyllical  simplicity.  I  recognize  its 
elegance;  but,  sir,  I  have  something  of  the  poet  in  my 
nature;    something,    possibly,    of    the    tribune.     And,    for 


Jt?e    Dynamiter  157 

my  small  part,  I  shall  remain  devoted  to  that  more 
emphatic,  more  striking,  and  (if  you  please)  more 
popular  method,  of  the  explosive  bomb.  Yes,"  he 
cried,  with  unshaken  hope,  "I  will  still  continue,  and 
I   feel  it  in  my  bosom   I  shall  yet  succeed." 

"Two  things  I  remark,"  said  Somerset.  "The  first 
somewhat  staggers  me.  Have  you,  then — in  all  this 
course  of  life,  which  you  have  sketched  so  vividly — 
have  you  not  once  succeeded?" 

"Pardon  me,"  said  Zero.  "I  have  had  one  success. 
You  behold  in  me  the  author  of  the  outrage  of  Red 
Lion   Court." 

"But  if  I  remember  right,"  objected  Somerset,  "the 
thing  was  a  fiasco.  A  scavenger's  barrow  and  some 
copies  of  the  'Weekly  Budget' — these  were  the  only 
victims." 

"You  will  pardon  me  again,"  returned  Zero  with 
positive   asperity;    "a  child   was  injured." 

"And  that  fitly  brings  me  to  my  second  point,"  said 
Somerset.  "For  I  observed  you  to  employ  the  word 
'indiscriminate.'  Now,  surely,  a  scavenger's  barrow  and 
a  child  (if  child  there  was)  represent  the  very  acme 
and  top  pin-point  of  indiscriminate,  and,  pardon  me,  of 
ineffectual   reprisal." 

"Did  I  employ  the  word?"  asked  Zero.  "Well,  I 
will  not  defend  it.  But  for  efficiency,  you  touch  on 
graver  matters;  and  before  entering  upon  so  vast  a 
subject,  permit  me  once  more  to  fill  our  glasses.  Dis- 
putation is  dry  work,"  he  added,  with  a  charming 
gayety  of  manner. 

Once  more  accordingly  the  pair  pledged  each  other 
in  a  stalwart  grog;   and   Zero,  leaning  back  with  an  air 


158  U/orKs   of   Robert   Couij   Steveosoo 

of  some  complacency,  proceeded  more  largely  to  develop 
his  opinions. 

"The  indiscriminate,"  he  began.  "War,  my  dear 
sir,  is  indiscriminate.  War  spares  not  the  child;  it  spares 
not  the  barrow  of  the  harmless  scavenger.  No  more," 
he  concluded,  beaming,  "no  more  do  I.  Whatever  may 
strike  fear,  whatever  may  confound  or  paralyze  the 
activities  of  the  guilty  nation,  barrow  or  child,  imperial 
Parliament  or  excursion  steamer,  is  welcome  to  my 
simple  plans.  You  are  not,"  he  inquired,  with  a  shade 
of  sympathetic  interest,  "you  are  not,  I  trust,  a 
believer?" 

"Sir,    I  believe  in  nothing,"   said   the  young  man. 

"You  are,  then,"  replied  Zero,  "in  position  to 
grasp  my  argument.  We  agree  that  humanity  is  the 
object,  the  glorious  triumph  of  humanity;  and  being 
pledged  to  labor  for  that  end,  and  face  to  face  with 
the  banded  opposition  of  kings,  parliaments,  churches 
and  the  members  of  the  force,  who  am  I — who  are 
we,  dear  sir — to  affect  a  nicety  about  the  tools  em- 
ployed? You  might,  perhaps,  expect  us  to  attack  the 
Queen,  the  sinister  Gladstone,  the  rigid  Derby,  or  the 
dexterous  Granville;  but  there  you  would  be  in  error. 
Our  appeal  is  to  the  body  of  the  people;  it  is  these 
that  we  would  touch  and  interest.  Now,  sir,  have  you 
observed   the  English  housemaid?" 

"I  should   think  I   had,"   cried    Somerset. 

"From  a  man  of  taste  and  a  votary  of  art,  I  had 
expected  it,"  returned  the  conspirator,  politely.  "A  type 
apart;  a  very  charming  figure;  and  thoroughly  adapted 
to  our  ends.  The  neat  cap,  the  clean  print,  the  comely 
person,     the    engaging    manner;     her     position     between 


Jfpe    Dynamiter  159 

classes,  parents  in  one,  employers  in  another;  the 
probability  that  she  will  have  at  least  one  sweetheart, 
whose  feelings  we  shall  address: — yes,  I  have  a  leaning 
— call  it,  if  you  will,  a  weakness — for  the  housemaid. 
Not  that  I  would  be  understood  to  despise  the  nurse. 
For  the  child  is  a  very  interesting  feature:  I  have 
long  since  marked  out  the  child  as  the  sensitive  point 
in  society."  He  wagged  his  head,  with  a  wise,  pensive 
smile.  "And  talking,  sir,  of  children  and  of  the  perils 
of  our  trade,  let  me  now  narrate  to  you  a  little  inci- 
dent of  an  explosive  bomb,  that  fell  out  some  weeks 
ago   under  my  own  observation.     It  fell  out  thus." 

And    Zero,    leaning   back    in    his    chair,    narrated    the 
following  simple   tale. 


ZERO'S  TALE  OF  THE  EXPLOSIVE  BOMB* 

I  dined  by  appointment  with  one  of  our  most 
trusted  agents,  in  a  private  chamber  at  St.  James's 
Hall.  You  have  seen  the  man:  it  was  M'Guire,  the 
most  chivalrous  of  creatures,  but  not  himself  expert  in_ 
our  contrivances.  Hence  the  necessity  of  our  meeting; 
for  I  need  not  remind  you  what  enormous  issues  de- 
pend upon  the  nice  adjustment  of  the  engine.  I  set  our 
little   petard  for  half   an   hour,    the  scene   of  action  being 

*  The  Arabian  author,  with  that  quaint  particularity  of 
touch  which  our  translation  usually  pretermits,  here  reg- 
isters a  somewhat  interesting  detail.  Zero  pronounced  the 
word  "boom";  and  the  reader,  if  but  for  the  nonce,  will 
possibly  consent  to  follow  him. 


160  U/ork^    of   Robert    Couis    Steuerjsor; 

hard  by;  and  the  better  to  avert  miscarriage,  employed 
a  device,  a  recent  invention  of  my  own,  by  which  the 
opening  of  the  Gladstone  bag  in  which  the  bomb 
was  carried  should  instantly  determine  the  explosion. 
M'Guire  was  somewhat  dashed  by  this  arrangement, 
which  was  new  to  him;  and  pointed  out,  with  excel- 
lent, clear  good  sense  that,  should  he  be  arrested,  it 
would  probably  involve  him  in  the  fall  of  our  opponents. 
But  I  was  not  to  be  moved,  made  a  strong  appeal  to 
his  patriotism,  gave  him  a  good  glass  of  whisky,  and 
dispatched  him    on  his  glorious  errand. 

Our  objective  was  the  effigy  of  Shakespeare  in 
Leicester  Square:  a  spot,  I  think,  admirably  chosen; 
not  only  for  the  sake  of  the  dramatist,  still  very  fool- 
ishly claimed  as  a  glory  by  the  English  race,  in  spite 
of  his  disgusting  political  opinions;  but  from  the  fact 
that  the  seats  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  are  often 
thronged  by  children,  errand-boys,  unfortunate  young 
ladies  of  the  poorer  class  and  infirm  old  men — all 
classes  making  a  direct  appeal  to  public  pity,  and 
therefore  suitable  with  our  designs.  As  M'Guire  drew 
near  his  heart  was  inflamed  by  the  most  noble  senti- 
ment of  triumph.  Never  had  he  seen  the  garden  so 
crowded;  children,  still  stumbling  in  the  impotence  of 
youth,  ran  to  and  fro,  shouting  and  playing,  round  the 
pedestal;  an  old,  sick  pensioner  sat  upon  the  nearest 
bench,  a  medal  on  his  breast,  a  stick  with  which  he 
walked  (for  he  was  disabled  by  wounds)  reclining  on 
his  knee.  Guilty  England  would  thus  be  stabbed  in 
the  most  delicate  quarters;  the  moment  had,  indeed} 
been  well  selected;  and  M'Guire,  with  a  radiant  pre- 
vision of  the  event,    drew  merrily   nearer.     Suddenly  his 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  161 

eye  alighted  on  the  burly  form  of  a  policeman,  stand- 
ing hard  by  the  effigy  in  an  attitude  of  watch.  My 
bold  companion  paused;  he  looked  about  him  closely; 
here  and  there,  at  different  points  of  the  inclosure, 
other  men  stood  or  loitered,  affecting  an  abstraction, 
feigning  to  gaze  upon  the  shrubs,  feigning  to  talk, 
feigning  to  be  weary  and  to  rest  upon  the  benches. 
M'Guire  was  no  child  in  these  affairs;  he  instantly 
divined  one  of  the  plots  of  the   Machiavellian   Gladstone. 

A  chief  difficulty  with  which  we  have  to  deal  is  a 
certain  nervousness  in  the  subaltern  branches  of  the 
corps;  as  the  hour  of  some  design  draws  near,  these 
chicken-souled  conspirators  appear  to  suffer  some  revul- 
sion of  intent:  and  frequently  dispatch  to  the  authori- 
ties, not  indeed  specific  denunciations,  but  vague  anony- 
mous warnings.  But  for  this  purely  accidental  circum- 
stance, England  had  long  ago  been  an  historical 
expression.  On  the  receipt  of  such  a  letter,  the  Gov- 
ernment lay  a  trap  for  their  adversaries,  and  surround 
the  threatened   spot   with  hirelings. 

My  blood  sometimes  boils  in  my  veins,  when  I  con- 
sider the  case  of  those  who  sell  themselves  for  money 
in  such  a  cause.  True,  thanks  to  the  generosity  of  our 
supporters,  we  patriots  receive  a  very  comfortable  sti- 
pend; I,  myself,  of  course,  touch  a  salary  which  puts 
me  quite  beyond  the  reach  of  any  peddling,  mercenary 
thoughts;  M'Guire,  again,  ere  he  joined  our  ranks,  was 
on  the  brink  of  starving,  and  now,  thank  God!  receives 
a  decent  income.  That  is  as  it  should  be;  the  patriot 
must  not  be  diverted  from  his  task  by  any  base  con- 
sideration;   and   the  distinction  between  our  position  and 

that  of  the  police  is  too  obvious   to  be  stated. 

11_  Vol,  XIV, 


162  U/orKs    of    Robert    Couis    Steueojon 

Plainly,  however,  our  Leicester  Square  design  had 
been  divulged;  the  Government  had  craftily  filled  the 
place  with  minions;  even  the  pensioner  was  not  im- 
probably a  hireling  in  disguise;  and  our  emissary,  with- 
out other  aid  or  protection  than  the  simple  apparatus 
in  his  bag,  found  himself  confronted  by  force;  brutal 
force;  that  strong  hand  which  was  a  character  of  the 
ages  of  oppression.  Should  he  venture  to  deposit  the 
machine,  it  was  almost  certain  that  he  would  be  ob- 
served and  arrested;  a  cry  would  arise;  and  there  was 
just  a  fear  that  the  police  might  not  be  present  in 
sufficient  force  to  protect  him  from  the  savagery  of 
the  mob.  The  scheme  must  be  delayed.  He  stood  with 
his  bag  on  his  arm,  pretending  to  survey  the  front  of 
the  Alhambra,  when  there  flashed  into  his  mind  a 
thought  to  appall  the  bravest.  The  machine  was  set; 
at  the  appointed  hour  it  must  explode;  and  how,  in  the 
interval,   was  he  to  be  rid  of  it? 

Put  yourself,  I  beseech  you,  into  the  body  of  that 
patriot.  There  he  was,  friendless  and  helpless;  a  man 
in  the  very  flower  of  life,  for  he  is  not  yet  forty;  with 
long  years  of  happiness  before  him;  and  now  condemned, 
in  one  moment,  to  a  cruel  and  revolting  death  by  dyn- 
amite! The  square,  he  said,  went  round  him  like  a 
thaumatrope;  he  saw  the  Alhambra  leap  into  the  air 
like  a  balloon;  and  reeled  against  the  railing.  It  is 
probable  he    fainted. 

When  he  came  to  himself,  a  constable  had  him  by 
the   arm. 

"My   God!"   he  cried. 

"You   seem   to   be   unwell,    sir,"   said   the  hireling. 

"I   feel   better   now,"   cried    poor    M'Guire;    and   with 


Jtye   Dynamiter  163 

uneven  steps,  for  the  pavement  of  the  square  seemed  to 
lurch  and  reel  under  his  footing,  he  fled  from  the  scene 
of  this  disaster.  Fled?  Alas,  from  what  was  he  fleeing? 
Did  he  not  carry  that  from  which  he  fled,  along  with 
him?  and  had  he  the  wings  of  the  eagle,  had  he  the 
swiftness  of  the  ocean  winds,  could  he  have  been  rapt 
into  the  uttermost  quarters  of  the  earth,  how  should 
he  escape  the  ruin  that  he  carried?  We  have  heard  of 
living  men  who  have  been  fettered  to  the  dead;  the 
grievance,  soberly  considered,  is  no  more  than  senti- 
mental; the  case  is  but  a  flea-bite  to  that  of  him  who 
was  linked,  like  poor  M'Guire,    to  an  explosive  bomb. 

A  thought  struck  him  in  Green  Street,  like  a  dart 
through  his  liver;  suppose  it  were  the  hour  already. 
He  stopped  as  though  he  had  been  shot,  and  plucked 
his  watch  out.  There  was  a  howling  in  his  ears,  as 
loud  as  a  winter  tempest;  his  sight  was  now  obscured 
as  if  by  a  cloud,  now,  as  by  a  lightning  flash,  would 
show  him  the  very  dust  upon  the  street.  But  so  brief 
were  these  intervals  of  vision,  and  so  violently  did  the 
watch  vibrate  in  his  hands,  that  it  was  impossible  to 
distinguish  the  numbers  on  the  dial.  He  covered  his 
eyes  for  a  few  seconds;  and  in  that  space,  it  seemed 
to  him  that  he  had  fallen  to  be  a  man  of  ninety. 
When  he  looked  again,  the  watch-plate  had  grown 
legible:  he  had  twenty  minutes.  Twenty  minutes,  and 
no   plan. 

Green  Street  at  that  time  was  very  empty;  and  he 
now  observed  a  little  girl  of  about  six  drawing  near  to 
him  and,  as  she  came,  kicking  in  front  of  her,  as 
children  will,  a  piece  of  wood.  She  sang,  too;  and 
something  in   her  accent  recalling  him  to  the  past,    pro- 


164  U/orKs    of   Robert    Couis    Steuei?soo 

duced    a    sudden    clearness    in    his    mind.      Here    was    a 
God-sent  opportunity! 

"My  dear,"  said  he,  "would  you  like  a  present  of 
a  pretty   bag?" 

The  child  cried  aloud  with  joy  and  put  out  her 
hands  to  take  it.  She  had  looked  first  at  the  bag,  like 
a  true  child;  but  most  unfortunately,  before  she  tad 
yet  received  the  fatal  gift,  her  eyes  fell  directly  on 
M'Guire;  and  no  sooner  had  she  seen  the  poor  gentle- 
man's face,  than  she  screamed  out  and  leaped  back- 
ward, as  though  she  had  seen  the  devil.  Almost  at  the 
same  moment,  a  woman  appeared  upon  the  threshold 
of  a  neighboring  shop,  and  called  upon  the  child  in 
anger.  "Come  here,  colleen,"  she  said,  "and  don't  be 
plaguing  the  poor  old  gentleman!"  "With  that  she  re- 
entered the  house,  and  the  child  followed  her,  sobbing 
aloud. 

With  the  loss  of  this  hope  M'Guire's  reason  swooned 
within  him.  When  next  he  awoke  to  consciousness,  he 
was  standing  before  St.  Martin 's-in-the-Fields,  wavering 
like  a  drunken  man;  the  passers-by  regarding  him  with 
eyes  in  which  he  read,  as  in  a  glass,  an  image  of  the 
terror   and   horror   that   dwelt   within    his   own. 

"I  am  afraid  you  are  very  ill,  sir,"  observed  a 
woman,  stopping  and  gazing  hard  in  his  face.  "Can  I 
do  any   thing   to   help   you?" 

"111?"  said  M'Guire.  "O  God!"  And  then,  recov- 
ering some  shadow  of  his  self-command,  "Chronic, 
madam,"  said  he;  "a  long  course  of  the  dumb  ague. 
But  since  you  are  so  compassionate — an  errand  that  I 
lack  the  strength  to  carry  out,"  he  gasped — "this  bag 
to    Portman    Square.      0    compassionate   woman,    as    you 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  165 

hope  to  be  saved,  as  you  are  a  mother,  in  the  name 
of  your  babies  that  wait  to  welcome  you  at  home,  oh 
take  this  bag  to  Pcrtman  Square!  I  have  a  mother, 
too,"  he  added,  with  a  broken  voice.  "Number  19, 
Portman   Square." 

I  suppose  he  had  expressed  himself  with  too  much 
energy  of  voice;  for  the  woman  was  plainly  taken  with 
a  certain  fear  of  him.  "Poor  gentleman!"  said  she. 
"If  I  were  you,  I  would  go  home."  And  she  left  him 
standing  there  in   his   distress. 

"Home!"  thought  M'Guire,  "what  a  derision!" 
"What  home  was  there  for  him,  the  victim  of  philan- 
thropy? He  thought  of  his  old  mother,  of  his  happy 
youth;  of  the  hideous,  rending  paDg  of  the  explosion; 
of  the  possibility  that  he  might  not  be  killed,  that  he 
might  be  cruelly  mangled,  crippled  for  life,  condemned 
to  life-long  pains,  blinded  perhaps,  and  almost  surely 
deafened.  Ah,  you  spoke  lightly  of  the  dynamiter's 
peril;  but  even  waiving  death,  have  you  realized  what 
it  is  for  a  fine,  brave  young  man  of  forty  to  be 
smitten  suddenly  with  deafness,  cut  off  from  all  the 
music  of  life,  and  from  the  voice  of  friendship  and 
love?  How  little  do  we  realize  the  sufferings  of  others! 
Even  your  brutal  Government,  in  the  heyday  of  its 
lust  for  cruelty,  though  it  scruples  not  to  hound  the 
patriot  with  spies,  to  pack  the  corrupt  jury,  to  bribe 
the  hangman,  and  to  erect  the  infamous  gallows,  would 
hesitate  to  inflict  so  horrible  a  doom:  not,  I  am  well 
aware,  from  virtue,  not  from  philanthropy,  but  with  the 
fear  before   it  of  the   withering  scorn   of  the   good. 

But  I  wander  from  M'Guire.  From  this  dread  glance 
into    the    past    and    future,    his    thoughts    returned    at    a 


166  U/orKj   of   Robert    C0U15    Steveojoi) 

bound  upon  the  present.  How  had  he  wandered  there? 
and  how  long— 0  Heavens!  how  long  had  he  been 
about  it?  He  pulled  out  his  watch;  and  found  that 
but  three  minutes  had  elapsed.  It  seemed  too  bright  a 
thing  to  be  believed.  He  glanced  at  the  church  clock; 
and  sure  enough,  it  marked  an  hour  four  minutes  faster 
than   the  watch. 

Of  all  that  he  endured,  M'Guire  declares  that  pang 
was  the  most  desolate.  Till  then  he  had  had  one 
friend,  one  counselor,  in  whom  he  plenarily  trusted;  by 
whose  advertisement,  he  numbered  the  minutes  that 
remained  to  him  of  life;  on  whose  sure  testimony,  he 
could  tell  when  the  time  was  come  to  risk  the  last 
adventure,  to  cast  the  bag  away  from  him,  and  take 
to  flight.  And  now  in  what  was  he  to  place  reliance? 
His  watch  was  slow;  it  might  be  losing  time;  if  so, 
in  what  degree?  What  limit  could  he  set  to  its  de- 
rangement? and  how  much  was  it  possible  for  a  watch 
to  lose  in  thirty  minutes?  Five?  ten?  fifteen?  It  might 
be  so;  already  it  seemed  years  since  he  had  left  St. 
James's  Hall  on  this  so  promising  enterprise;  at  any 
moment,    then,   the  blow   was   to  be  looked  for. 

In  the  face  of  this  new  distress,  the  wild  disorder 
of  his  pulses  settled  down;  and  a  broken  weariness  suc- 
ceeded, as  though  he  had  lived  for  centuries  and  for 
centuries  been  dead.  The  buildings  and  the  people  in 
the  street  became  incredibly  small,  and  far-away,  and 
bright;  London  sounded  in  his  ears  stilly,  like  a  whisper; 
and  the  rattle  of  the  cab  that  nearly  charged  him  down 
was  like  a  sound  from  Africa.  Meanwhile,  he  was 
conscious  of  a  strange  abstraction  from  himself;  and 
heard   and  felt  his  footfalls  on  the  ground,   as  those  of 


J)?e   Dynamiter  167 

a  very  old,  small,  debile  and  tragically  fortuned  man, 
whom  he  sincerely  pitied. 

As  he  was  thus  moving  forward  past  the  National 
Gallery,  in  a  medium,  it  seemed,  of  greater  rarity  and 
quiet  than  ordinary  air,  there  slipped  into  his  mind  the 
recollection  of  a  certain  entry  in  Whitcomb  Street  hard 
by,  where  he  might  perhaps  lay  down  his  tragic  cargo 
unremarked.  Thither,  then,  he  bent  his  steps,  seeming, 
as  he  went,  to  float  above  the  pavement;  and  there, 
in  the  mouth  of  the  entry,  he  found  a  man  in  a  sleeved 
waistcoat,  gravely  chewing  a  straw.  He  passed  him 
by,  and  twice  patroled  the  entry,  scouting  for  the  barest 
chance;  but  the  man  had  faced  about  and  continued  to 
observe   him  curiously. 

Another  hope  was  gone.  M'Guire  reissued  from  the 
entry,  still  followed  by  the  wondering  eyes  of  the  man 
in  the  sleeved  waistcoat.  He  once  more  consulted  his 
watch:  there  was  but  fourteen  minutes  left  to  him.  At 
that,  it  seemed  as  if  a  sudden,  genial  heat  were  spread 
about  his  brain;  for  a  second  or  two,  he  saw  the 
world  as  red  as  blood;  and  thereafter  entered  into  a 
complete  possession  of  himself,  with  an  incredible  cheer- 
fulness of  spirits,  prompting  him  to  sing  and  chuckle  as 
he  walked.  And  yet  this  mirth  seemed  to  belong  to 
things  external;  and  within,  like  a  black  and  leaden-heavy 
kernel,   he   was    conscious  of    the   weight    upon   his  soul. 

I  care  for  nobody,  no,  not  I, 
And  nobody  cares  for  me, 

he  sang,  and  laughed  at  the  appropriate  burden,  so 
that  the  passengers  stared  upon  him  on  the  street. 
And    still    the   warmth    seemed    to    increase    and    to  be- 


168  U/orKs    of   Robert    Couis    Stevenson 

come  more  genial.  What  was  life?  he  considered,  and 
what  he,  M'Guire?  What  even  Erin,  our  green  Erin? 
All  seemed  so  incalculably  little  that  he  smiled  as  he 
looked  down  upon  it.  He  would  have  given  years,  had 
he  possessed  them,  for  a  glass  of  spirits;  but  time 
failed,    and  he  must    deny   himself    this    last  indulgence. 

At  the  corner  of  the  Haymarket  he  very  jauntily 
hailed  a  hansom  cab;  jumped  in;  bade  the  fellow  drive 
him  to  a  part  of  the  Embankment,  which  he  named; 
and,  as  soon  as  the  vehicle  was  in  motion,  concealed 
the  bag  as  completely  as  he  could  under  the  vantage 
of  the  apron,  and  once  more  drew  out  his  watch.  So 
he  rode  for  five  interminable  minutes,  his  heart  in  his 
mouth  at  every  jolt,  scarce  able  to  possess  his  terrors, 
yet  fearing  to  wake  the  attention  of  the  driver  by  too 
obvious  a  change  of  plan,  and  willing,  if  possible,  to 
leave  him  time  to  forget  the   Gladstone  bag. 

At  length,  at  the  head  of  some  stairs  on  the  Em- 
bankment, he  hailed;  the  cab  was  stopped,  and  he 
alighted — with  how  glad  a  heart!  He  thrust  his  hand 
into  his  pocket.  All  was  now  over;  he  had  saved  his 
life;  nor  that  alone,  but  he  had  engineered  a  striking 
act  of  dynamite;  for  what  could  be  more  pictorial, 
what  more  effective,  than  the  explosion  of  a  hansom 
cab  as  it  sped  rapidly  along  the  streets  of  London. 
He  felt  in  one  pocket,  then  in  another.  The  most 
crushing  seizure  of  despair  descended  on  his  soul,  and, 
struck  into  abject  dumbness,  he  stared  upon  the  driver. 
He   had   not   one   penny. 

"Hillo,"    said   the   driver;    "don't   seem   well." 

"Lost  my  money,"  said  M'Guire,  in  tones  so  faint 
and  strange   that  they   surprised  his  hearing. 


~[i)e   Dynamiter  169 

The  man  looked  through  the  trap.  "I  dessay,"  said 
he;    "you've  left  your  bag." 

M'Guire  half  unconsciously  fetched  it  out,  and  look- 
ing on  that  black  continent  at  arms-length,  withered 
inwardly  and  felt  his  features  sharpen  as  with  mortal 
sickness. 

"This  is  not  mine,"  said  he.  "Your  last  fare  must 
have  left  it.     You  had  better  take  it  to  the  station." 

"Now  look  here,"  returned  the  cabman,  "are  you 
off  your   chump?    or   am   I?" 

""Well,  then,  I'll  tell  you  what,"  exclaimed  M'Guire, 
"you  take  it  for  your  fare." 

"Oh,  I  dessay,"  replied  the  driver.  "Anything  else? 
What's  in  your  bag?    Open  it  and  let  me  see." 

"No,  no,"  returned  M'Guire.  "Oh,  no,  not  that. 
It's  a  surprise;  it's  prepared  expressly;  a  surprise  for 
honest  cabmen." 

"No,  you  don't,"  said  the  man,  alighting  from  his 
perch,  and  coming  very  close  to  the  unhappy  patriot. 
"You're  either  going  to  pay  my  fare,  or  get  in  again 
and  drive  to  the  office." 

It  was  at  this  supreme  hour  of  his  distress  that 
M'Guire  spied  the  stout  figure  of  one  Godall,  a  tobac- 
conist of  Rupert  Street,  drawing  near  along  the  Em- 
bankment. The  man  was  not  unknown  to  him;  he 
had  bought  of  his  wares,  and  heard  him  quoted  for 
the  soul  of  liberality;  and  such  was  now  the  nearness 
of  his  peril  that  even  at  such  a  straw  of  hope  he 
clutched   with    gratitude. 

"Thank  God!"  he  cried.  "Here  comes  a  friend  of 
mine.  I'll  borrow."  And  he  dashed  to  meet  the  trades- 
man.    "Sir,"   said   he,    "Mr.    Godall,    I   have    dealt  with 


170  U/orKs    of   Robert    Couis    Steuenson 

you — you  doubtless  know  my  face — calamities  for  which 
I  cannot  blame  myself  have  overwhelmed  me.  Oh,  sir, 
for  the  love  of  innocence,  for  the  sake  of  the  bonds 
of  humanity,  and  as  you  hope  for  mercy  at  the  throne 
of  grace,   lend  me   two-and-six!" 

"I  do  not  recognize  your  face,"  replied  Mr.  Godall; 
"but  I  remember  the  cut  of  your  beard,  which  I  have 
the  misfortune  to  dislike.  Here,  sir,  is  a  sovereign, 
which  I  very  willingly  advance  to  you  on  the  single 
condition  that  you   shave   your   chin." 

M'Guire  grasped  the  coin  without  a  word,  cast  it 
to  the  cabman,  calling  out  to  him  to  keep  the  change; 
bounded  down  the  steps,  flung  the  bag  far  forth  into 
the  river,  and  fell  headlong  after  it.  He  was  plucked 
from  a  watery  grave,  it  is  believed,  by  the  hands  of 
Mr.  Godall.  Even  as  he  was  being  hoisted,  dripping, 
to  the  shore,  a  dull  and  choked  explosion  shook  the 
solid  masonry  of  the  Embankment,  and  far  out  in  the 
river  a  momentary  fountain  rose  and  disappeared. 


THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION  (continued) 

Somerset  in  vain  strove  to  attach  a  meaning  to 
these  words.  He  had  in  the  meanwhile  applied  himself 
assiduously  to  the  flagon;  the  plotter  began  to  melt  in 
twain,  and  seemed  to  expand  and  hover  on  his  seat, 
and  with  a  vague  sense  of  nightmare  the  young  man 
rose  unsteadily  to  his  feet,  and,  refusing  the  proffer  of 
a  third  grog,  insisted  that  the  hour  was  late  and  he 
must  positively  go  to  bed. 


y\)e   Dynamiter  I'M 

.  "Dear  me,"  observed  Zero,  "I  find  you  very  tem- 
perate. But  I  will  not  be  oppressive.  Suffice  it  that 
we  are  now  fast  friends;  and,  my  dear  landlord,  au 
revoirl" 

So  saying,  the  plotter  once  more  shook  hands;  and 
with  the  politest  ceremonies,  and  some  necessary  guid- 
ance, conducted  the  bewildered  young  gentleman  to  the 
top  of  the  stair. 

Precisely  how  he  got  to  bed  was  a  point  on  which 
Somerset  remained  in  utter  darkness;  but  the  next 
morning  when,  at  a  blow,  he  started  broad  awake, 
there  fell  upon  his  mind  a  perfect  hurricane  of  horror 
and  wonder.  That  he  should  have  suffered  himself  to 
be  led  into  the  semblance  of  intimacy  with  such  a  man 
as  his  abominable  lodger,  appeared,  in  the  cold  light 
of  day,  a  mystery  of  human  weakness.  True,  he  was 
caught  in  a  situation  that  might  have  tested  the  aplomb 
of  Talleyrand.  That  was  perhaps  a  palliation;  but  it 
was  no  excuse.  For  so  wholesale  a  capitulation  of  prin- 
ciple, for  such  a  fall  into  criminal  familiarity,  no  ex- 
cuse indeed  was  possible;  nor  any  remedy,  but  to 
withdraw  at  once  from  the   relation. 

As  soon  as  he  was  dressed,  he  hurried  upstairs,  de- 
termined on  a  rupture.  Zero  hailed  him  with  the 
warmth   of  an    old   friend. 

"Come  in,"  he  cried,  "dear  Mr.  Somerset!  Come 
in,  sit  down,  and,  without  ceremony,  join  me  at  my 
morning  meal." 

"Sir,"  said  Somerset,  "you  must  permit  me  first  to 
disengage  my  honor.  Last  night  I  was  surprised  into 
a  certain  appearance  of  complicity;  but  once  for  all, 
let  me  inform  you   that  I  regard   you  and    your  machi- 


172  U/orKs    of   Robert    Couis    Steuensor) 

nations  with  unmingled  horror  and  disgust,  and  I  will 
leave   no  stone   unturned  to  crush  your  vile   conspiracy." 

"My  dear  fellow,"  replied  Zero,  with  an  air  of  some 
complacency,  "I  am  well  accustomed  to  these  human 
weaknesses.  Disgust?  I  have  felt  it  myself;  it  speed- 
ily wears  off.  I  think  none  the  worse,  I  think  the 
more  of  you  for  this  engaging  frankness.  And  in  the 
meanwhile,  what  are  you  to  do?  You  find  yourself,  if 
I  interpret  rightly,  in  very  much  the  same  situation  as 
Charles  the  Second  (possibly  the  least  degraded  of  your 
British  sovereigns)  when  he  was  taken  into  the  confi- 
dence of  the  thief.  To  denounce  me  is  out  of  the 
question;  and  what  else  can  you  attempt?  No,  dear 
Mr.  Somerset,  your  hands  are  tied;  and  you  find  your- 
self condemned,  under  pain  of  behaving  like  a  cad,  to 
be  that  same  charming  and  intellectual  companion  who 
delighted  .  me   last  night." 

"At  least,"  cried  Somerset,  "I  can  and  do  order 
you  to  leave  this  house." 

"Ah!"  cried  the  plotter,  "but  there  I  fail  to  follow 
you.  You  may,  if  you  choose,  enact  the  part  of  Judas; 
but  if,  as  I  suppose,  you  recoil  from  that  extremity  of 
meanness,  I  am,  on  my  side,  far  too  intelligent  to 
leave  these  lodgings,  in  which  I  please  myself  exceed- 
ingly, and  from  which  you  lack  the  power  to  drive 
me.  No,  no,  dear  sir;  here  I  am,  and  here  I  propose 
to  stay." 

"I  repeat,"  cried  Somerset,  beside  himself  with  a 
sense  of  his  own  weakness,  "I  repeat  that  I  give  you 
warning.  I  am  master  of  this  house;  and  I  emphati- 
cally give  you   warning." 

"A  week's    warning?"     said    the    imperturbable   con- 


Jt)e    Dynamiter  173 

spirator.  "Very  well;  we  will  talk  of  it  a  week  from 
now.  That  is  arranged;  and  in  the  meanwhile,  I  ob- 
serve my  breakfast  growing  cold.  Do,  dear  Mr.  Somer- 
set, since  you  find  yourself  condemned,  for  a  week  at 
least,  to  the  society  of  a  very  interesting  character, 
display  some  of  that  open  favor,  some  of  that  interest 
in  life's  obscurer  sides,  which  stamp  the  character  of 
the  true  artist.  Hang  me,  if  you  will,  to-morrow;  but 
to-day  show  yourself  divested  of  the  scruples  of  the 
burgess,   and    sit    down  pleasantly   to    share    my  meal." 

"Man!"  cried  Somerset,  "do  you  understand  my 
sentiments?" 

"Certainly,"  replied  Zero;  "and  I  respect  them! 
Would  you  be  outdone  in  such  a  contest?  will  you 
alone  be  partial?  and  in  this  nineteenth  century,  cannot 
two  gentlemen  of  education  agree  to  differ  on  a  point  of 
politics?  Come,  sir;  all  your  hard  words  have  left  me 
smiling;   judge,  then,  which  of  us  is  the  philosopher!" 

Somerset  was  a  young  man  of  a  very  tolerant  dis- 
position and  by  nature  easily  amenable  to  sophistry. 
He  threw  up  his  hands  with  a  gesture  of  despair,  and 
took  the  seat  to  which  the  conspirator  invited  him. 
The  meal  was  excellent;  the  host  not  only  affable,  but 
primed  with  curious  information.  He  seemed,  indeed, 
like  one  who  had  too  long  endured  the  torture  of  si- 
lence, to  exult  in  the  most  wholesale  disclosures.  The 
interest  of  what  he  had  to  tell  was  great;  his  char- 
acter, besides,  developed  step  by  step;  and  Somerset,  as 
the  time  fled,  not  only  outgrew  some  of  the  discomfort 
of  his  false  position,  but  began  to  regard  the  conspira- 
tor with  a  -familiarity  that  verged  upon  contempt.  In 
any  circumstances,   he   had  a   singular   inability  to   leave 


174  U/orKs    of   Robert    Couis    Steueosoo 

the  society  in  which  he  found  himself;  company,  even 
if  distasteful,  held  him  captive  like  a  limed  sparrow; 
and  on  this  occasion,  he  suffered  hour  to  follow  hour, 
was  easily  persuaded  to  sit  down  once  more  to  table, 
and  did  not  even  attempt  to  withdraw,  till,  on  the  ap- 
proach of  evening,  Zero,  with  many  apologies,  dis- 
missed his  guest.  His  fellow-conspirators,  the  dynamiter 
handsomely  explained,  as  they  were  unacquainted  with 
the  sterling  qualities  of  the  young  man,  would  be 
alarmed   at   the  sight   of  a  strange  face. 

As  soon  as  he  was  alone,  Somerset  fell  back  upon 
the  humor  of  the  morning.  He  raged  at  the  thought 
of  his  facility;  he  paced  the  dining-room,  forming  the 
sternest  resolutions  for  the  future;  he  wrung  the  hand 
which  had  been  dishonored  by  the  touch  cf  an  assassin; 
and  among  all  these  whirling  thoughts,  there  flashed  in, 
from  time  to  time,  and  ever  with  a  chill  of  fear,  the 
thought  of  the  confounded  ingredients  with  which  the 
house  was  stored.  A  powder-magazine  seemed  a  secure 
smoking-room   alongside   of   the   Superfluous   Mansion. 

He  sought  refuge  in  flight,  in  locomotion,  in  the 
flowing  bowl.  As  long  as  the  bars  were  open,  he 
traveled  from  one  to  another,  seeking  light,  safety  and 
the  companionship  of  human  faces;  when  these  resources 
failed  him,  he  fell  back  on  the  belated  baked -potato 
man;  and  at  length,  still  pacing  the  streets,  he  was 
goaded  to  fraternize  with  the  police.  Alas,  with  what 
a  sense  of  guilt  he  conversed  with  these  guardians  of 
the  law;  how  gladly  had  he  wept  upon  their  ample 
bosoms;  and  how  the  secret  fluttered  to  his  lips  and 
was  still  denied  an  exit!  Fatigue  began  at  last  to 
triumph  over  remorse;    and    about    the   hour  of  the  first 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  175 

milkman,  he  returned  to  the  door  of  the  mansion; 
looked  at  it  with  a  horrid  expectation,  as  though  it 
should  have  burst  that  instant  into  flames;  drew  out 
his  key,  and  when  his  foot  already  rested  on  the  steps, 
once  more  lost  heart  and  fled  for  repose  to  the  grisly 
shelter  of    a  coffee-shop. 

It  was  on  the  stroke  of  noon  when  he  awoke.  Dis- 
mally searching  in  his  pockets,  he  found  himself  re- 
duced to  half -a-crown ;  and  when  he  had  paid  the  price 
of  his  distasteful  couch,  saw  himself  obliged  to  return 
to  the  Superfluous  Mansion.  He  sneaked  into  the  hall, 
and  stole  on  tiptoe  to  the  cupboard  where  he  kept  his 
money.  Yet  half  a  minute,  he  told  himself,  and  he 
would  be  free  for  days  from  his  obseding  lodger,  and 
might  decide  at  leisure  on  the  course  he  should  pursue. 
But  fate  had  otherwise  designed;  there  came  a  tap  at 
the  door  and   Zero   entered. 

"Have  I  caught  you?"  he  cried,  with  innocent 
gayety.  "Dear  fellow,  I  was  growing  quite  impatient." 
And  on  the  speaker's  somewhat  stolid  face  there  came 
a  glow  of  genuine  affection.  "I  am  so  long  unused  to 
have  a  friend,"  he  continued,  "that  I  begin  to  be 
afraid  I  may  prove  jealous."  And  he  wrung  the  hand 
of  his   landlord. 

Somerset  was,  of  all  men,  least  fit  to  deal  with  such 
a  greeting.  To  reject  these  kind  advances  was  beyond 
his  strength.  That  he  could  not  return  cordiality  for 
cordiality  was  already  almost  more  than  he  could  carry. 
That  inequality  between  kind  sentiments,  which,  to 
generous  characters,  will  always  seem  to  be  a  sort  of 
guilt,  oppressed  him  to  the  ground;  and  he  stammered 
vague  and  lying  words. 


176  U/orKs    of   Robert    Couis    SteueqsoQ 

"That  is  all  right,"  cried  Zero— "that  is  as  it  should 
be — say  no  more!  I  had  a  vague  alarm;  I  feared  you 
had  deserted  me;  but  I  now  own  that  fear  to  have  been 
unworthy,  and  apologize.  To  doubt  of  your  forgiveness 
were  to  repeat  my  sin.  Come,  then;  dinner  waits;  join 
me    again    and    tell    me  your  adventures  of  the  night." 

Kindness  still  sealed  the  lips  of  Somerset;  and  he 
suffered  himself  once  more  to  be  set  down  to  table 
with  his  innocent  and  criminal  acquaintance.  Once 
more,  the  plotter  plunged  up  to  the  neck  in  damaging 
disclosures:  now  it  would  be  the  name  and  biography 
of  an  individual,  now  the  address  of  some  important 
center,  that  rose,  as  if  by  accident,  upon  his  lips;  and 
each  word  was  like  another  turn  of  the  thumbscrew  to 
his  unhappy  guest.  Finally,  the  course  of  Zero's  bland 
monologue  led  him  to  the  young  lady  of  two  days  ago: 
that  young  lady,  who  had  flashed  on  Somerset  for  so 
brief  a  while  but  with  so  conquering  a  charm;  and 
whose  engaging  grace,  communicative  eyes,  and  admira- 
ble conduct  of  the  sweeping  skirt,  remained  imprinted  on 
his  memory. 

"You  saw  her?"  said  Zero.  "Beautiful,  is  she  not? 
She,  too,  is  one  of  ours:  a  true  enthusiast:  nervous, 
perhaps,  in  presence  of  the  chemicals;  but  in  matters 
of  intrigue,  the  very  soul  of  skill  and  daring.  Lake, 
Fonblanque,  de  Marly,  Valdevia,  such  are  some  of  the 
names  that  she  employs;  her  true  name — but  there, 
perhaps,  I  go  too  far.  Suffice  it,  that  it  is  to  her  I 
owe  my  present  lodging  and,  dear  Somerset,  the  pleas- 
ure of  your  acquaintance.  It  appears  she  knew  the 
house.  You  see,  dear  fellow,  I  make  no  concealment; 
all  that  you  can  care   to  hear,    I  tell  you  openly." 


Tf?e    Dynamiter  177 

"For  God's  sake,"  cried  the  wretched  Somerset, 
"hold  your  tongue!  You  cannot  imagine  how  you  tor- 
ture me!" 

A  shade  of  serious  discomposure  crossed  the  open 
countenance   of   Zero. 

"There  are  times,"  he  said,  "when  I  begin  to  fancy 
that  you  do  not  like  me.  Why,  why,  dear  Somerset, 
this  lack  of  cordiality?  I  am  depressed;  the  touchstone 
of  my  life  draws  near;  and  if  I  fail" — he  gloomily 
nodded — "from  all  the  height  of  my  ambitious  schemes, 
I  fall,  dear  boy,  into  contempt.  These  are  grave 
thoughts,  and  you  may  judge  my  need  of  your  de- 
lightful company.  Innocent  prattler,  you  relieve  the 
weight  of  my  concerns.  And  yet  .  .  .  and  yet  ..." 
The  speaker  pushed  away  his  plate,  and  rose  from 
table.  "Follow  me,"  said  he,  "follow  me.  My  mood 
is  on;  I  must  have  air,  I  must  behold  the  plain 
of   battle." 

So  saying,  he  led  the  way  hurriedly  to  the  top  flat 
of  the  mansion,  and  thence,  by  ladder  and  trap,  to  a 
certain  leaded  platform,  sheltered  at  one  end  by  a  great 
stalk  of  chimneys  and  occupying  the  actual  summit  of 
the  roof.  On  both  sides  it  bordered,  without  parapet  or 
rail,  on  the  incline  of  slates;  and,  northward  above  all, 
commanded  an  extensive  view  of  housetops,  and  rising 
through   the  smoke,    the  distant  spires  of  churches. 

"Here,"   cried    Zero,    "you    behold   this  field   of    city, 

rich,    crowded,    laughing    with    the    spoil    of     continents; 

but    soon,   how  soon,   to  be    laid  low!     Some    day,   some 

night,  from   this   coign   of   vantage,  you  shall   perhaps   be 

startled    by    the    detonation    of    the    judgment    gun — not 

sharp    and    empty   like    the    crack  of    cannon,    but   deep- 

12-  Vol.  XIV. 


178  U/orKs    of   Robert    Couis    Stevenson 

mouthed  and  unctuously  solemn.  Instantly  thereafter, 
you  shall  behold  the  flames  break  forth.  Ay,"  he  cried, 
stretching  forth  his  hand,  "ay,  that  will  be  a  day  of 
retribution.  Then  shall  the  pallid  constable  flee  side  by 
side  with  the  detected  thief.  Blaze!"  he  cried,  "blaze, 
derided  city!     Fall,  flatulent  monarchy,  fall  like   Dagon!" 

"With  these  words  his  foot  slipped  upon  the  lead; 
and  but  for  Somerset's  quickness,  he  had  been  instantly 
precipitated  into  space.  Pale  as  a  sheet,  and  limp  as 
a  pocket-handkerchief,  he  was  dragged  from  the  edge 
of  downfall  by  one  arm;  helped,  or  rather  carried, 
down  the  ladder;  and  deposited  in  safety  on  the  attic 
landing.  Here  he  began  to  come  to  himself,  wiped  his 
brow,  and  at  length,  seizing  Somerset's  hand  in  both 
of  his,    began  to   utter   his   acknowledgments. 

"This  seals  it,"  said  he.  "Ours  is  a  life  and  death 
connection.  You  have  plucked  me  from  the  jaws  of 
death;  and  if  I  were  before  attracted  by  your  character, 
judge  now  of  the  ardor  of  my  gratitude  and  love?  But 
I  perceive  I  am  still  greatly  shaken.  Lend  me,  I  be- 
seech you,  lend  me  your    arm   as  far  as   my  apartment." 

A  dram  of  spirits  restored  the  plotter  to  something 
of  his  customary  self-possession;  and  he  was  standing, 
glass  in  hand  and  genially  convalescent,  when  his  eye 
was  attracted  by  the  dejection  of  the  unfortunate  young 
man. 

"Good  heavens,  dear  Somerset,"  he  cried,  "what 
ails  you?    Let  me  offer  you  a  touch  of  spirits." 

But  Somerset  had  fallen  below  the  reach  of  this 
material  comfort. 

"Let  me  be,"  he  said,  "I  am  lost;  you  have  caught 
me    in    the    toils.     Up   to   this  moment    I   have  lived   all 


Tfoe   Dynamiter  179 

my  life  in  the  most  reckless  manner,  and  done  exactly 
what  I  pleased,  with  the  most  perfect  innocence.  And 
now — what  am  I?  Are  you  so  blind  and  wooden  that 
you  do  not  see  the  loathing  you  inspire  me  with?  Is  it 
possible  you  can  suppose  me  willing  to  continue  to  exist 
upon  such  terms?  To  think,"  he  cried,  "that  a  young 
man,  guilty  of  no  fault  on  earth  but  amiability,  should 
find  himself  involved  in  such  a  damned  imbroglio!" 
And  placing  his  knuckles  in  his  eyes,  Somerset  rolled 
upon   the   sofa. 

"My  God,"  said  Zero,  "is  this  possible?  And  I  so 
filled  with  tenderness  and  interest!  Can  it  be,  dear 
Somerset,  that  you  are  under  the  empire  of  these  out- 
worn scruples?  or  that  you  judge  a  patriot  by  the 
morality  of  the  religious  tract?  I  thought  you  were  a 
good  agnostic." 

"Mr.  Jones,"  said  Somerset,  "it  is  in  vain  to  argue. 
I  boast  myself  a  total  disbeliever  not  only  in  revealed 
religion,  but  in  the  data,  method  and  conclusions  of  the 
whole  of  ethics.  Well!  what  matters  it?  what  signifies 
a  form  of  words?  I  regard  you  as  a  reptile,  whom  I 
would  rejoice,  whom  I  long,  to  stamp  under  my  heel. 
You  would  blow  up  others?  "Well  then,  understand:  I 
want,  with  every  circumstance  of  infamy  and  agony, 
to  blow   up  you!" 

"Somerset,  Somerset!"  said  Zero,  turning  very  pale, 
"this  is  wrong;  this  is  very  wrong.  You  pain,  you 
wound  me,    Somerset." 

"Give  me  a  match!"  cried  Somerset  wildly.  "Let 
me  set  fire  to  this  incomparable  monster!  Let  me 
perish    with   him  in   his    fall!" 

"For   God's  sake,"   cried  Zero,   clutching  hold   of  the 


180  U/orKs  of  Robert  Couis  Steueipson 

young  man,  "for  God's  sake  command  yourself!  We 
stand  upon  the  brink;  death  yawns  around  us;  a  man 
— a  stranger  in  this  foreign  land — one  whom  you  have 
called  your  friend — " 

"Silence!"  cried  Somerset,  "you  are  no  friend,  no 
friend  of  mine.  I  look  on  you  with  loathing,  like  a 
toad:  my  flesh  creeps  with  physical  repulsion;  my  soul 
revolts  against  the  sight  of  you." 

Zero  burst  into  tears.  "Alas!"  he  sobbed,  "this 
snaps  the  last  link  that  bound  me  to  humanity.  My 
friend   disowns — he  insults   me.     I   am  indeed   accursed." 

Somerset  stood  for  an  instant  staggered  by  this  sud- 
den change  of  front.  The  next  moment,  with  a  despair- 
ing gesture,  he  fled  from  the  room  and  from  the  house. 
The  first  dash  of  his  escape  carried  him  hard  upon 
halfway  to  the  next  police-office;  but  presently  he  began 
to  droop;  and  before  he  reached  the  house  of  lawful 
intervention,  he  fell  once  more  among  doubtful  counsels. 
Was  he  an  agnostic?  had  he  a  right  to  act?  Away 
with  such  nonsense,  and  let  Zero  perish !  ran  his  thoughts. 
And  then  again:  had  he  not  promised,  had  he  not 
shaken  hands  and  broken  bread?  and  that  with  open  eyes? 
and  if  so,  how  could  he  take  action,  and  not  forfeit  honor? 
But  honor!  what  was  honor?  A  figment  which,  in  the  hot 
pursuit  of  crime,  he  ought  to  dash  aside.  Ay,  but  crime? 
A  figment,  too,  which  his  enfranchised  intellect  discarded. 
All  day  he  wandered  in  the  parks,  a  prey  to  whirling 
thoughts;  all  night,  patroled  the  city;  and  at  the  peep 
of  day  he  sat  down  by  the  wayside  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Peckham  and  bitterly  wept.  His  gods  had  fallen. 
He  who  had  chosen  the  broad,  daylighted,  unencum- 
bered paths  of    universal   skepticism,    found    himself    still 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  181 

the  bondslave  of  honor.  He  who  had  accepted  life 
from  a  point  of  view  as  lofty  as  the  predatory  eagle's, 
though  with  no  design  to  prey;  he  who  had  clearly 
recognized  the  common  moral  basis  of  war,  of  commer- 
cial competition,  and  of  crime;  he  who  was  prepared 
to  help  the  escaping  murderer  or  to  embrace  the  im- 
penitent thief,  found,  to  the  overthrow  of  all  his  logic, 
that  he  objected  to  the  use  of  dynamite.  The  dawn 
crept  among  the  sleeping  villas  and  over  the  smokeless 
fields  of  city;  and  still  the  unfortunate  skeptic  sobbed 
over  his  fall  from   consistency. 

At  length,  he  rose  and  took  the  rising  sun  to  wit- 
ness. "There  is  no  question  as  to  fact,"  he  cried; 
"right  and  wrong  are  but  figments  and  the  shadow  of 
a  word;  but  for  all  that,  there  are  certain  things  that 
I  cannot  do,  and  there  are  certain  others  that  I  will 
not  stand."  Thereupon  he  decided  to  return,  to  make 
one  last  effort  of  persuasion,  and,  if  he  could  not  pre- 
vail on  Zero  to  desist  from  his  infernal  trade,  throw 
delicacy  to  the  winds,  give  the  plotter  an  hour's  start, 
and  denounce  him  to  the  police.  Fast  as  he  went, 
being  winged  by  this  resolution,  it  was  already  well 
on  in  the  morning  when  he  came  in  sight  of  the 
Superfluous  Mansion.  Tripping  down  the  steps  was  the 
young  lady  of  the  various  aliases;  and  he  was  surprised  to 
see  upon  her  countenance  the  marks  of  anger  and  concern. 

"Madam,"  he  began,  yielding  to  impulse  and  with 
no  clear  knowledge   of  what  he  was  to  add. 

But  at  the  sound  of  his  voice  she  seemed  to  experi- 
ence a  shock  of  fear  or  horror;  started  back;  lowered 
her  veil  with  a  sudden  movement;  and  fled,  without 
turning,    from   the    square. 


182  U/orKs  of  Robert  Couis  Steuer>sor> 

Here,  then,  we  step  aside  a  moment  from  following 
the  fortunes  of  Somerset,  and  proceed  to  relate  the 
strange  and  romantic  episode  of   The  Brown  Box. 


DESBOROUGH'S  ADVENTURE:    THE  BROWN 

BOX 

Mr.  Harry  Desborough  lodged  in  the  fine  and 
grave  old  quarter  of  Bloomsbury,  roared  about  on  every 
side  by  the  high  tides  of  London,  but  itself  rejoicing 
in  romantic  silences  and  city  peace.  It  was  in  Queen 
Square  that  he  had  pitched  his  tent,  next  door  to  the 
Children's  Hospital,  on  your  left  hand  as  you  go  north: 
Queen  Square,  sacred  to  humane  and  liberal  arts,  whence 
homes  were  made  beautiful,  where  the  poor  were  taught, 
where  the  sparrows  were  plentiful  and  loud,  and  where 
groups  of  patient  little  ones  would  hover  all  day  long 
before  the  hospital,  if  by  chance  they  might  kiss  their 
hand  or  speak  a  word  to  their  sick  brother  at  the 
window.  Desborough's  room  was  on  the  first  floor  and 
fronted  to  the  square;  but  he  enjoyed,  besides,  a  right 
by  which  he  often  profited,  to  sit  and  smoke  upon  a 
terrace  at  the  back,  which  looked  down  upon  a  fine 
forest  of  back  gardens,  and  was  in  turn  commanded  by 
the   windows  of  an  empty  room. 

On  the  afternoon  of  a  warm  day,  Desborough  saun- 
tered forth  upon  this  terrace,  somewhat  out  of  hope  and 
heart,  for  he  had  been  now  some  weeks  on  the  vain 
quest  of  situations,  and  prepared  for  melancholy  and 
tobacco.     Here,    at  least,   he  told  himself  that  he   would 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  183 

be  alone;  for,  like  most  youths,  who  are  neither  rich, 
nor  witty,  nor  successful,  he  rather  shunned  than  courted 
the  society  of  other  men.  Even  as  he  expressed  the 
thought  his  eye  alighted  on  the  window  of  the  room 
that  looked  upon  the  terrace;  and  to  his  surprise  and 
annoyance,  he  beheld  it  curtained  with  a  silken  hanging. 
It  was  like  his  luck,  he  thought;  his  privacy  was  gone, 
he  could  no  longer  brood  and  sigh  unwatched,  he  could 
no  longer  suffer  his  discouragement  to  find  a  vent  in 
words  or  soothe  himself  with  sentimental  whistling;  and 
in  the  irritation  of  the  moment  he  struck  his  pipe  upon 
the  rail  with  unnecessary  force.  It  was  an  old,  sweet, 
seasoned  brier-root,  glossy  and  dark  with  long  employ- 
ment and  justly  dear  to  his  fancy.  What,  then,  was 
his  chagrin,  when  the  head  snapped  from  the  stem, 
leaped  airily  in  space,  and  fell  and  disappeared  among 
the  lilacs   of  the   garden? 

He  threw  himself  savagely  into  the  garden  chair, 
pulled  out  the  story-paper  which  he  had  brought  with 
him  to  read,  tore  off  a  fragment  of  the  last  sheet, 
which  contains  only  the  answers  to  correspondents,  and 
set  himself  to  roll  a  cigarette.  He  was  no  master  of 
the  art;  again  and  again,  the  paper  broke  between  his 
fingers  and  the  tobacco  showered  upon  the  ground;  and 
he  was  already  on  the  point  of  angry  resignation, 
when  the  window  swung  slowly  inward,  the  silken  cur- 
tain was  thrust  aside,  and  a  lady,  somewhat  strangely 
attired,    stepped   forth   upon   the   terrace. 

"Senorito,"  said  she,  and  there  was  a  rich  thrill  in 
her  voice,  like  an  organ  note,  "Senorito,  you  are  in 
difficulties.     Suffer  me   to   come   to  your   assistance." 

With    the  words,   she    took    the    paper    and    tobacco 


184  ll/or^s    of   Robert    Couis    Stevensoo 

from  his  unresisting  hands;  and  with  a  facility  that, 
in  Desborough's  eyes,  seemed  magical,  rolled  and  pre- 
sented him  a  cigarette.  He  took  it,  still  without  a 
word;  staring  with  all  his  eyes  upon  that  apparition. 
Her  face  was  warm  and  rich  in  color;  in  shape,  it 
was  the  kitten  face,  that  piquant  triangle,  so  mysteri- 
ous, so  pleasingly  attractive,  so  rare  in  our  more  north- 
ern climates;  her  eyes  were  large,  starry  and  visited  by 
changing  lights;  her  hair  was  partly  covered  by  a  lace 
mantilla,  through  which  her  arms,  bare  to  the  shoulder, 
gleamed  white;  her  figure,  full  and  soft  in  all  the 
womanly  contours,  was  yet  alive  and  active,  light  with 
excess  of  life,  and  slender  by  grace  of  some  divine 
proportion. 

"You  do  not  like  my  cigarrito,  Senor?"  she  asked. 
"Yet  it  is  better  made  than  yours."  At  that  she 
laughed,  and  her  laughter  trilled  in  his  ear  like  music; 
but  the  next  moment  her  face  fell.  "I  see,"  she  cried. 
"It  is  my  manner  that  repels  you.  I  am  too  con- 
strained, too  cold.  I  am  not,"  she  added,  with  a  more 
engaging  air,  "I  am  not  the  simple  English  maiden  I 
appear." 

"Oh!"  murmured  Harry,  filled  with  inexpressible 
thoughts. 

"In  my  own  dear  land,"  she  pursued,  "things  are 
differently  ordered.  There,  I  must  own,  a  girl  is  bound 
by  many  and  rigorous  restrictions;  little  is  permitted 
her;  she  learns  to  be  distant,  she  learns  to  appear  for- 
bidding. But  here,  in  free  England — oh,  glorious 
liberty,"  she  cried,  and  threw  up  her  arms  with  a 
gesture  of  inimitable  grace — "here  there  are  no  fetters; 
here    the   woman    may   dare  to    be    herself    entirely,    and 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  185 

the  men,  the  chivalrous  men — is  it  not  written  on  the 
very  shield  of  your  nation,  honi  soit?  Ah,  it  is  hard 
for  me  to  learn,  hard  for  me  to  dare  to  be  myself. 
You  must  not  judge  me  yet  a  while;  I  shall  end  by 
conquering  this  stiffness,  I  shall  end  by  growing  En- 
glish.    Do   I   speak   the    language   well?" 

"Perfectly — oh,  perfectly!"  said  Harry,  with  a  fer- 
vency of   conviction   worthy  of   a  graver   subject. 

"Ah,  then,"  she  said,  "I  shall  soon  learn;  English 
blood  ran  in  my  father's  veins;  and  I  have  had  the 
advantage  of  some  training  in  your  expressive  tongue. 
If  I  speak  already  without  accent,  with  my  thorough 
English  appearance,  there  is  nothing  left  to  change 
except   my  manners." 

"Oh  no,"  said  Desborough.  "Oh  pray  not!  I — 
madam — " 

"I  am,"  interrupted  the  lady,  "the  Senorita  Teresa 
Valdevia.  The  evening  air  grows  chill.  Adios,  Senor- 
ito."  And  before  Harry  could  stammer  oat  a  word, 
she  had  disappeared  into   her  room. 

He  stood  transfixed,  the  cigarette  still  unlighted  in 
his  hand.  His  thoughts  had  soared  above  tobacco,  and 
still  recalled  and  beautified  the  image  of  his  new  ac- 
quaintance. Her  voice  re-echoed  in  his  memory;  her 
eyes,  of  which  he  could  not  tell  the  color,  haunted  his 
soul.  The  clouds  had  risen  at  her  coming,  and  he  be- 
held a  new-created  world.  What  she  was,  he  could  not 
fancy,  but  he  adored  her.  Her  age,  he  durst  not 
estimate;  fearing  to  find  her  older  than  himself,  and 
thinking  sacrilege  to  couple  that  fair  favor  with  the 
thought  of  mortal  changes.  As  for  her  character, 
beauty   to    the    young  is  always  good.     So   the  poor  lad 


186  U/orl^s    of   Robert    Couis   Stevensoi} 

lingered  late  upon  the  terrace,  stealing  timid  glances  at 
the  curtained  window,  sighing  to  the  gold  laburnums, 
rapt  into  the  country  of  romance;  and  when  at  length 
he  entered  and  sat  down  to  dine,  on  cold  boiled  mut- 
ton and   a   pint  of  ale,  he  feasted  on   the  food   of  gods. 

Next  day  when  he  returned  to  the  terrace,  the  win- 
dow was  a  little  ajar  and  he  enjoyed  a  view  of  the 
lady's  shoulder,  as  she  sat  patiently  sewing  and  all 
unconscious  of  his  presence.  On  the  next,  he  had 
scarce  appeared  when  the  window  opened,  and  the 
Senorita  tripped  forth  into  the  sunlight,  in  a  morning 
disorder,  delicately  neat,  and  yet  somehow  foreign, 
tropical  and   strange.     In    one    hand    she   held  a  packet. 

"Will  you  try,"  she  said,  "some  of  my  father's 
tobacco — from  dear  Cuba?  There,  as  I  suppose  you 
know,  all  smoke,  ladies  as  well  as  gentlemen.  So  you 
need  not  fear  to  annoy  me.  The  fragrance  will  remind 
me  of  home.  My  home,  Senor,  was  by  the  sea."  And 
as  she  uttered  these  few  words,  Desborough,  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life,  realized  the  poetry  of  the  great 
deep.  "Awake  or  asleep,  I  dream  of  it;  dear  home, 
dear  Cuba!" 

"But  some  day,"  said  Desborough,  with  an  inward 
pang,    "some  day  you   will  return?" 

"Never!"   she  cried;   "ah,  never,  in  Heaven's  name!" 

"Are  you  then  resident  for  life  in  England?"  he 
inquired,    with   a  strange   lightening  of   spirit. 

"You  ask  too  much,  for  you  ask  more  than  I 
know,"  she  answered,  sadly;  and  then,  resuming  her 
gayety  of  manner:  "But  you  have  not  tried  my  Cuban 
tobacco,"    she   said. 

"Senorita,"   said    he,   shyly   abashed  by  some   shadow 


Tl?e    Dynamiter  187 

of  coquetry  in  her  manner,  "whatever  comes  to  mo — 
you — I  mean,"  he  concluded,  deeply  flushing,  "that  I 
have   no   doubt   the  tobacco  is  delightful." 

"Ah,  Senor,"  she  said,  with  almost  mournful  grav- 
ity, "you  seemed  so  simple  and  good,  and  already  you 
are  trying  to  pay  compliments — and  besides,"  she  added, 
brightening,  with  a  quick,  upward  glance,  into  a  smile, 
"you  do  it,  oh,  so  badly!  English  gentlemen,  I  used 
to  hear,  could  be  fast  friends,  respectful,  honest  friends; 
could  be  companions,  comforters,  if  the  need  arose,  or 
champions,  and  yet  never  encroach.  Do  not  seek  to 
please  me  by  copying  the  graces  of  my  countrymen. 
Be  yourself;  the  frank,  kindly,  honest  English  gentleman 
that  I  have  heard  of  since  my  childhood  and  still  long 
to  meet." 

Harry,  much  bewildered,  and  far  from  clear  as  to 
the  manners  of  the  Cuban  gentleman,  streDuously  dis- 
claimed  the   thought  of   plagiarism. 

"Your  national  seriousness  of  bearing  best  becomes 
you,  Senor,"  said  the  lady.  "See!"  marking  a  line 
with  her  dainty,  slippered  foot,  "thus  far  it  shall  be 
common  ground;  there,  at  my  window-sill,  begins  the 
scientific  frontier.  If  you  choose,  you  may  drive  me  to 
my  forts;  but  if,  on  the  other  hand,  we  are  to  be  real 
English  friends,  I  may  join  you  here  when  I  am  not 
too  sad;  or,  when  I  am  yet  more  graciously  inclined, 
you  may  draw  your  chair  beside  the  window  and  teach 
me  English  customs,  while  I  work.  You  will  find  me 
an  apt  scholar,  for  my  heart  is  in  the  task."  She  laid 
her  hand  lightly  upon  Harry's  arm,  and  looked  into 
his  eyes.  "Do  you  know,"  said  she,  "I  am  emboldened 
to  believe  that  I  have  already  caught  something  of  your 


188  U/orKs    of   Robert    Couij    Steueosoi) 

English  aplomb?  Do  you  not  perceive  a  change,  Senor? 
Slight,  perhaps,  but  still  a  change?  Is  my  deportment 
not  more  open,  more  free,  more  like  that  of  the  dear 
'British  Miss,'  than  when  you  saw  me  first?"  She 
gave  a  radiant  smile;  withdrew  her  hand  from  Harry's 
arm;  and  before  the  young  man  could  formulate  in 
words  the  eloquent  emotions  that  ran  riot  through  his 
brain — with  an  "Adios,  Senor:  good-night,  my  English 
friend,"  she  vanished   from   his   sight  behind  the  curtain. 

The  next  day,  Harry  consumed  an  ounce  of  tobacco 
in  vain  upon  the  neutral  terrace;  neither  sight  nor 
sound  rewarded  him,  and  the  dinner-hour  summoned 
him  at  length  from  the  scene  of  disappointment.  On 
the  next,  it  rained;  but  nothing,  neither  business  nor 
weather,  neither  prospective  poverty  nor  present  hard- 
ship, could  not  divert  the  young  man  from  the  service  of 
his  lady;  and  wrapped  in  a  long  ulster,  with  the  collar 
raised,  he  took  his  stand  against  the  balustrade,  await- 
ing fortune,  the  picture  of  damp  and  discomfort  to  the 
eye,  but  glowing  inwardly  with  tender  and  delightful 
ardors.  Presently  the  window  opened;  and  the  fair 
Cuban,  with  a  smile  imperfectly  dissembled,  appeared 
upon  the  sill. 

"Come  here,"  she  said,  "here,  beside  my  window. 
The  small  veranda  gives  a  belt  of  shelter."  And  she 
graciously  handed   him   a  folding-chair. 

As  he  sat  down,  visibly  aglow  with  shyness  and 
delight,  a  certain  bulkiness  in  his  pocket  reminded  him 
that  he   was  not  come  empty-handed. 

"I  have  taken  the  liberty,"  said  he,  "of  bringing 
you  a  little  book.  I  thought  of  you,  when  I  observed 
it  on  the   stall,    because   I   saw  it  was  in   Spanish.     The 


J\)e   Dynamiter  189 

man  assured  me  it  was  by  one  of  the  best  authors, 
and  quite  proper."  As  he  spoke,  he  placed  the  little 
volume  in  her  hand.  Her  eyes  fell  as  she  turned  the 
pages,  and  a  flush  rose  and  died  again  upon  her 
cheeks,  as  deep  as  it  was  fleeting.  "You  are  angry," 
he  cried   in   agony.     "I  have  presumed!" 

"No,  Senor,  it  is  not  that,"  returned  the  lady.  "I" 
— and  a  flood  of  color  once  more  mounted  to  her  brow 
— "I  am  confused  and  ashamed  because  I  have  deceived 
you.  Spanish,"  she  began,  and  paused — "Spanish  is  of 
course  my  native  tongue,"  she  resumed,  as  though  sud- 
denly taking  courage;  "and  this  should  certainly  put 
the  highest  value  on  your  thoughtful  present;  but  alas, 
sir,  of  what  use  is  it  to  me?  And  how  shall  I  con- 
fess to  you  the  truth — the  humiliating  truth — that  I  can- 
not read?" 

As  Harry's  eyes  met  hers  in  undisguised  amazement, 
the  fair  Cuban  seemed  to  shrink  before  his  gaze. 
"Read?"    repeated   Harry.     "You?" 

She  pushed  the  window  still  more  widely  open  with 
a  large  and  noble  gesture.  "Enter,  Senor,"  said  she. 
"The  time  has  come  to  which  I  have  long  looked  for- 
ward, not  without  alarm;  when  I  must  either  fear  to 
lose  your  friendship,  or  tell  you  without  disguise  the 
story  of  my  life." 

It  was  with  a  sentiment  bordering  on  devotion  that 
Harry  passed  the  window.  A  semi -barbarous  delight  in 
form  and  color  had  presided  over  the  studied  disorder 
of  the  room  in  which  he  found  himself.  It  was  filled 
with  dainty  stuffs,  furs  and  rugs  and  scarfs  of  brilliant 
hues,  and  set  with  elegant  and  curious  trifles — fans  on 
the    mantel-shelf,    an   antique   lamp   upon   a  bracket,    and 


190  U/orKs    of   Robert    Couij   Stevepsop 

on  the  table  a  silver-mounted  bowl  of  cocoanut  about 
half  full  of  unset  jewels.  The  fair  Cuban,  herself  a 
gem  of  color  and  the  fit  masterpiece  for  that  rich 
frame,  motioned  Harry  to  a  seat,  and  sinking  herself 
into  another,    thus   began   her  history. 


STORY  OF  THE  FAIR   CUBAN 

I  am  not  what  I  seem.  My  father  drew  his  de- 
scent, on  the  one  hand,  from  grandees  of  Spain,  and 
on  the  other,  through  the  maternal  line,  from  the  pa- 
triot Bruce.  My  mother,  too,  was  the  descendant  of  a 
line  of  kings;  but,  alas!  these  kings  were  African. 
She  was  fair  as  the  day:  fairer  than  I,  for  I  inherited 
a  darker  strain  of  blood  from  the  veins  of  my  Euro- 
pean father;  her  mind  was  noble,  her  manners  queenly 
and  accomplished;  and  seeing  her  more  than  the  equal 
of  her  neighbors  and  surrounded  by  the  most  consider- 
ate affection  and  respect,  I  grew  up  to  adore  her,  and 
when  the  time  came,  received  her  last  sigh  upon  my 
lips,  still  ignorant  that  she  was  a  slave  and  alas!  my 
father's  mistress.  Her  death,  which  befell  me  in  my  six- 
teenth year,  was  the  first  sorrow  I  had  known:  it  left 
our  home  bereaved  of  its  attractions,  cast  a  shade  of 
melancholy  on  my  youth,  and  wrought  in  my  father  a 
tragic  and  durable  change.  Months  went  by;  with  the 
elasticity  of  my  years,  I  regained  some  of  the  simple 
mirth  that  had  before  distinguished  me;  the  plantation 
smiled  with  fresh  crops;  the  negroes  on  the  estate  had 
already   forgotten   my   mother   and    transferred   their  sim- 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  191 

pie  obedience  to  myself;  but  still  the  cloud  only  dark- 
ened on  the  brows  of  Senor  Valdevia.  His  absences 
from  home  had  been  frequent  even  in  the  old  days, 
for  he  did  business  in  precious  gems  in  the  city  of 
Havana;  they  now  became  almost  continuous;  and 
when  he  returned,  it  was  but  for  the  night  and  with 
the  manner  of  a  man  crushed  down  by  adverse  fortune. 

The  place  where  I  was  born  and  passed  my  days 
was  an  isle  set  in  the  Caribbean  Sea,  some  half-hour's 
rowing  from  the  coast  of  Cuba.  It  was  steep,  rugged, 
and,  except  for  my  father's  family  and  plantation,  un- 
inhabited and  left  to  nature.  The  house,  a  low  build- 
ing surrounded  by  spacious  verandas,  stood  upon  a  rise 
of  ground  and  looked  across  the  sea  to  Cuba.  The 
breezes  blew  about  it  gratefully,  fanned  us  as  we  lay 
swinging  in  our  silken  hammocks,  and  tossed  the 
boughs  and  flowers  of  the  magnolia.  Behind  and  to 
the  left,  the  quarter  of  the  negroes  and  the  waving 
fields  of  the  plantation  covered  an  eighth  part  of  the 
surface  of  the  isle.  On  the  right  and  closely  bordering 
on  the  garden  lay  a  vast  and  deadly  swamp,  densely 
covered  with  wood,  breathing  fever,  dotted  with  pro- 
found sloughs,  and  inhabited  by  poisonous  oysters,  man- 
eating  crabs,  snakes,  alligators  and  sickly  fishes.  In 
the  recesses  of  that  jungle  none  could  penetrate  but 
those  of  African  descent;  an  invisible,  unconquerable 
foe  lay  there  in  wait  for  the  European;  and  the  air 
was  death. 

One  morning  (from  which  I  must  date  the  begin- 
ning of  my  ruinous  misfortune)  I  left  my  room  a  little 
after  day,  for  in  that  warm  climate  all  are  early  risers, 
and   found   not  a  servant  to  attend   upon    my   wants.     I 


192  U/orK5    °f   Robert    Couis    Steueosor) 

made  the  circuit  of  the  house,  still  calling:  and  my 
surprise  had  almost  changed  into  alarm,  when  coming 
at  last  into  a  large  verandaed  court,  I  found  it  thronged 
with  negroes.  Even  then,  even  when  I  was  among 
them,  not  one  turned  or  paid  the  least  regard  to  my 
arrival.  They  had  eyes  and  ears  for  but  one  person:  a 
woman  richly  and  tastefully  attired;  of  elegant  carriage, 
and  a  musical  speech;  not  so  much  old  in  years,  as 
worn  and  marred  by  self-indulgence:  her  face,  which 
was  still  attractive,  stamped  with  the  most  cruel  pas- 
sions, her  eye  burning  with  the  greed  of  evil.  It  was 
not  from  her  appearance,  I  believe,  but  from  some 
emanation  of  her  soul,  that  I  recoiled  in  a  kind  of 
fainting  terror;  as  we  hear  of  plants  that  blight  and 
snakes  that  fascinate,  the  woman  shocked  and  daunted 
me.  But  I  was  of  a  brave  nature;  trod  the  weakness 
down;  and  forcing  my  way  through  the  slaves,  who 
fell  back  before  me  in  embarrassment,  as  though  in 
the  presence  of  rival  mistresses,  I  asked,  in  imperious 
tones:    "Who  is  this  person?" 

A  girl  slave,  to  whom  I  had  been  kind,  whispered 
in  my  ear  to  have  a  care,  for  that  was  Madame  Men- 
dizabal;    but  the  name   was  new  to  me. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  woman,  applying  a  pair  of 
glasses  to  her  eyes,  studied  me  with  insolent  particu- 
larity  from   head   to  foot. 

"Young  woman,"  said  she,  at  last,  "I  have  had  a 
great  experience  in  refractory  servants,  and  take  a  pride 
in  breaking  them.  You  really  tempt  me;  and  if  I  had 
not  other  affairs,  and  these  of  more  importance,  on  my 
hand,  I  should   certainly  buy  you  at  your  father's  sale." 

"Madam — "   I   began,    but  my   voice  failed  me. 


JI?e   Dynamiter  193 

"Is  it  possible  that  you  do  not  know  your  position?'' 
she  returned,  with  a  hateful  laugh.  "How  comical! 
Positively,  I  must  buy  her.  Accomplishments,  I  sup- 
pose?"   she   added,    turning   to   the   servants. 

Several  assured  her  that  the  young  mistress  had 
been  brought  up  like  any  lady,  for  so  it  seemed  in 
their    inexperience. 

''She  would  do  very  well  for  my  place  of  business 
in  Havana,"  said  the  Senora  Mendizabal,  once  more 
studying  me  through  her  glasses;  "and  I  should  take 
a  pleasure,"  she  pursued,  more  directly  addressing  my- 
self, "in  bringing  you  acquainted  with  a  whip."  And  she 
smiled  at  me  with  a  savory  lust  of  cruelty  upon  her  face. 

At  this  I  found  expression.  Calling  by  name  upon 
the  servants,  I  bade  them  turn  this  woman  from  the 
house,  fetch  her  to  the  boat,  and  set  her  back  upon 
the  mainland.  But  with  one  voice,  they  protested  that 
they  durst  not  obey,  coming  close  about  me,  pleading 
and  beseeching  me  to  be  more  wise;  and  when  I  in- 
sisted, rising  higher  in  passion  and  speaking  of  this 
foul  intruder  in  the  terms  she  had  deserved,  they  fell 
back  from  me  as  from  one  who  had  blasphemed.  A 
superstitious  reverence  plainly  encircled  the  stranger;  I 
could  read  it  in  their  changed  demeanor,  and  in  the 
paleness  that  prevailed  upon  the  natural  color  of  their 
faces;  and  their  fear  perhaps  reacted  on  myself.  I 
looked  again  at  Madam  Mendizabal.  She  stood  perfectly 
composed,  watching  my  face  through  her  glasses  with 
a  smile  of  scorn;  and  at  the  sight  of  her  assured  su- 
periority to  all  my  threats,  a  cry  broke  from  my  lips, 
a  cry   of    rage,    fear    and   despair,    and   I  fled    from    the 

veranda  and  the  house. 

13-  Vol,  XI V. 


194  U/or^s   of   Robert   Couis    Steuepsor) 

I  ran  I  knew  not  where,  but  it  was  toward  the 
beach.  As  I  went,  my  head  whirled;  so  strange,  so 
sudden,  were  these  events  and  insults.  Who  was  she? 
what  in  Heaven's  name  the  power  she  wielded  over 
my  obedient  negroes?  Why  had  she  addressed  me  as 
a  slave?  why  spoken  of  my  father's  sale?  To  all  these 
tumultuary  questions  I  could  find  no  answer;  and  in 
the  turmoil  of  my  mind,  nothing  was  plain  except  the 
hateful,    leering  image  of  the  woman. 

I  was  still  running,  mad  with  fear  and  anger,  when 
I  saw  my  father  coming  to  meet  me  from  the  land- 
ing-place; and  with  a  cry  that  I  thought  would  have 
killed  me,  leaped  into  his  arms  and  broke  into  a  pas- 
sion of  sobs  and  tears  upon  his  bosom.  He  made  me 
sit  down  below  a  tall  palmetto  that  grew  not  far  off, 
comforted  me,  but  with  some  abstraction  in  his  voice, 
and  as  soon  as  I  regained  the  least  command  upon 
my  feelings,  asked  me,  not  without  harshness,  what 
this  grief  betokened.  I  was  surprised  by  his  tone  into 
a  still  greater  measure  of  composure;  and  in  firm 
tones,  though  still  interrupted  by  sobs,  I  told  him  there 
was  a  stranger  in  the  island,  at  which  I  thought  he 
started  and  turned  pale;  that  the  servants  would  not 
obey  me;  that  the  stranger's  name  was  Madam  Men- 
dizabal,  and  at  that  he  seemed  to  me  both  troubled 
and  relieved;  that  she  had  insulted  me,  treated  me  as 
a  slave  (and  here  my  father's  brow  began  to  darken), 
threatened  to  buy  me  at  a  sale,  and  questioned  my 
own  servants  before  my  face;  and  that,  at  last,  find- 
ing myself  quite  helpless  and  exposed  to  these  intol- 
erable liberties,  I  had  fled  from  the  house  in  terror, 
indignation  and   amazement. 


Tl?e   Dynamiter  195 

"Teresa,"  said  my  father,  with  singular  gravity  of 
voice,  "I  must  make  to-day  a  call  upon  your  courage; 
much  must  be  told  you,  there  is  much  that  you  must 
do  to  help  me;  and  my  daughter  must  prove  herself 
a  woman  by  her  spirit.  As  for  this  Mendizabal,  what 
shall  I  say?  or  how  am  I  to  tell  you  what  she  is? 
Twenty  years  ago,  she  was  the  loveliest  of  slaves;  to- 
day she  is  what  you  see  her— prematurely  old,  dis- 
graced by  the  practice  of  every  vice  and  every  nefari- 
ous industry,  but  free,  rich,  married,  they  say,  to  some 
reputable  man,  whom  may  Heaven  assist!  and  exercis- 
ing among  her  ancient  mates,  the  slaves  of  Cuba,  an 
influence  as  unbounded  as  its  reason  is  mysterious. 
Horrible  rites,  it  is  supposed,  cement  her  empire:  the 
rites  of  Hoodoo.  Be  that  as  it  may,  I  would  have 
you  dismiss  the  thought  of  this  incomparable  witch;  it 
is  not  from  her  that  danger  threatens  us,  and  into  her 
hands,    I   make   bold   to  promise,    you    shall    never  fall." 

"Father!"  I  cried.  "Fall?  Was  there  any  truth, 
then,  in  her  words?  Am  I — oh,  father,  tell  me  plain; 
I  can  bear  anything  but  this  suspense." 

"I  will  tell  you,"  he  replied,  "with  merciful  blunt- 
ness.  Your  mother  was  a  slave;  it  was  my  design, 
so  soon  as  I  had  saved  a  competence,  to  sail  to  the 
free  land  of  Britain,  where  the  law  would  suffer  me 
to  marry  her:  a  design  too  long  procrastinated;  for 
death  at  the  last  moment  intervened.  You  will  now 
understand  the  heaviness  with  which  your  mother's 
memory   hangs   about  my   neck." 

I  cried  out  aloud,  in  pity  for  my  parents;  and  in 
seeking  to  console   the   survivor,    I   forgot   myself. 

"It    matters    not,"    resumed    my    father.      "What    I 


196  U/orKj   of  Robert   Coui$   Steveijsop 

have  left  undone  can  never  be  repaired,  and  I  must 
bear  the  penalty  of  my  remorse.  But,  Teresa,  with  so 
cutting  a  reminder  of  the  evils  of  delay,  I  set  myself 
at  once  to  do  what  was  still  possible:  to  liberate  your- 
self." 

I  began  to  break  forth  in  thanks,  but  he  checked 
me  with   a  somber  roughness. 

"Your  mother's  illness,"  he  resumed,  "had  engaged 
too  great  a  portion  of  my  time ;  my  business  in  the  city 
had  lain  too  long  at  the  mercy  of  ignorant  underlings; 
my  head,  my  taste,  my  unequaled  knowledge  of  the 
more  precious  stones,  that  art  by  which  I  can  distin- 
guish, even  on  the  darkest  night,  a  sapphire  from  a 
ruby,  and  tell  at  a  glance  in  what  quarter  of  the 
earth  a  gem  was  disinterred — all  these  had  been  too 
long  absent  from  the  conduct  of  affairs.  Teresa,  I  was 
insolvent." 

"What  matters  that?"  I  cried.  "What  matters  pov- 
erty, if  we  be  left  together  with  our  love  and  sacred 
memories?" 

"You  do  not  comprehend,"  he  said  gloomily.  "Slave, 
as  you  are,  young — alas!  scarce  more  than  child! — ac- 
complished, beautiful  with  the  most  touching  beauty, 
innocent  as  an  angel — all  these  qualities  that  should  dis- 
arm the  very  wolves  and  crocodiles,  are,  in  the  eyes 
of  those  to  whom  I  stand  indebted,  commodities  to 
buy  and  sell.  You  are  a  chattel ;  a  marketable  thing ; 
and  worth — heavens,  that  I  should  say  such  words! — 
worth  money.  Do  you  begin  to  see?  If  I  were  to 
give  you  freedom,  I  should  defraud  my  creditors;  the 
manumission  would  be  certainly  annulled;  you  would 
be  still   a  slave,    and   I   a  criminal." 


J\)e   Dynamiter  197 

I  caught  his  hand  iu  mine,  kissed  it,  and  moaned 
in   pity   for   myself,    in   sympathy   for  my   father. 

"How  I  have  toiled,"  he  continued,  "how  I  have 
dared  and  striven  to  repair  my  losses,  Heaven  has  be- 
held and  will  remember.  Its  blessing  was  denied  to 
my  endeavors,  or,  as  I  please  myself  by  thinking,  but 
delayed  to  descend  upon  my  daughter's  head.  At 
length,  all  hope  was  at  an  end;  I  was  ruined  beyond 
retrieve;  a  heavy  debt  fell  due  upon  the  morrow,  which 
I  could  not  meet;  I  should  be  declared  a  bankrupt, 
and  my  goods,  my  lands,  my  jewels  that  I  so  much 
loved,  my  slaves  whom  I  have  spoiled  and  rendered 
happy,  and,  oh!  ten-fold  worse,  you,  my  beloved  daugh- 
ter, would  be  sold  and  pass  into  the  hands  of  ignorant 
and  greedy  traffickers.  Too  long,  I  saw,  had  I  accepted 
and  profited  by  this  great  crime  of  slavery;  but  was 
my  daughter,  my  innocent,  unsullied  daughter,  was  she 
to  pay  the  price?  I  cried  out — no! — I  took  Heaven  to 
witness  my  temptation;  I  caught  up  this  bag  and  fled. 
Close  upon  my  track  are  the  pursuers;  perhaps  to-mor- 
row they  will  land  upon  this  isle,  sacred  to  the  mem- 
ory of  the  dear  soul  that  bore  you,  to  consign  your 
father  to  an  ignominious  prison,  and  yourself  to  slavery 
and  dishonor.  We  have  not  many  hours  before  us. 
Off  the  north  coast  of  our  isle,  by  strange  good  fort- 
une, an  English  yacht  has  for  some  days  been  hover- 
ing. It  belongs  to  Sir  George  Greville,  whom  I  slightly 
know,  to  whom  ere  now  I  have  rendered  unusual  ser- 
vices, and  who  will  not  refuse  to  help  in  our  escape. 
Or  if  he  did,  if  his  gratitude  were  in  default,  I  have 
the  power  to  force  him.  For  what  does  it  mean,  my 
child — what    means    this     Englishman,     who    hangs    for 


198  U/orKs   of  Robert   Couis   &teueoson 

years  upon  the  shores  of  Cuba,  and  returns  from  every 
trip   with   new  and   valuable   gems!" 

"He   may   have   found   a   mine,"    I   hazarded. 

"So  he  declares,"  returned  my  father;  "but  the 
strange  gift  I  have  received  from  nature  easily  trans- 
pierced the  fable.  He  brought  me  diamonds  only,  which 
I  bought,  at  first,  in  innocence;  at  a  second  glance,  I 
started;  for  of  these  stones,  my  child,  some  had  first 
seen  the  day  in  Africa,  some  in  Brazil;  while  others, 
from  their  peculiar  water  and  rude  workmanship,  I 
divined  to  be  the  spoil  of  ancient  temples.  Thus  put 
upon  the  scent,  I  made  inquiries:  oh,  he  is  cunning, 
but  I  was  cunninger  than  he.  He  visited,  I  found, 
the  shop  of  every  jeweler  in  town;  to  one  he  came 
with  rubies,  to  one  with  emeralds,  to  one  with  precious 
beryl;  to  all,  with  this  same  story  of  the  mine.  But 
in  what  mine,  what  rich  epitome  of  the  earth's  sur- 
face, were  there  conjoined  the  rubies  of  Ispahan,  the 
pearls  of  Coromandel  and  the  diamonds  of  Golconda? 
No,  child,  that  man,  for  all  his  yacht  and  title,  that 
man  must  fear  and  must  obey  me.  To-night,  then,  as 
soon  as  it  is  dark,  we  must  take  our  way  through  the 
swamp  by  the  path  which  I  shall  presently  show  you; 
thence,  across  the  highlands  of  the  isle  a  track  is 
blazed,  which  shall  conduct  us  to  the*  haven  on  the 
north;  and  close  by  the  yacht  is  riding.  Should  my 
pursuers  come  before  the  hour  at  which  I  look  to  see 
them,  they  will  still  arrive  too  late;  a  trusty  man  at- 
tends on  the  mainland;  as  soon  as  they  appear,  we 
shall  behold,  if  it  be  dark,  the  redness  of  a  tire,  if  it 
be  day,  a  pillar  of  smoke,  on  the  opposing  headland; 
and  thus  warned,  we  shall  have  time  to  put  the  swamp 


tl?e   Dyoamiter  199 

between  ourselves  and  danger.  Meantime,  I  would  con- 
ceal this  bag;  I  would,  before  all  things,  be  seen  to 
arrive  at  the  house  with  empty  hands;  a  blabbing 
slave  might  else  undo  us.  For  see!"  he  added;  and 
holding  up  the  bag,  which  he  had  already  shown  me, 
he  poured  into  my  lap  a  shower  of  unmounted  jewels, 
brighter  than  flowers,  of  every  size  and  color,  and 
catching,  as  they  fell,  upon  a  million  dainty  facets, 
the   ardor  of    the  sun. 

I   could  not  restrain   a  cry   of  admiration. 

"Even  in  your  ignorant  eyes,"  pursued  my  father, 
"they  command  respect.  Yet  what  are  they  but  peb- 
bles, passive  to  the  tool,  cold  as  death?  Ingrate!"  he 
cried.  "Each  one  of  these — miracles  of  nature's  pa- 
tience, conceived  out  of  the  dust  in  centuries  of  micro- 
scopical activity,  each  one  is,  for  you  and  me,  a  year 
of  life,  liberty  and  mutual  affection.  How,  then,  should 
I  cherish  them?  and  why  do  I  delay  to  place  them 
beyond  reach?     Teresa,    follow  me." 

He  rose  to  his  feet  and  led  me  to  the  borders  of 
the  great  jungle,  where  they  overhung,  in  a  wall  of 
poisonous  and  dusky  foliage,  the  declivity  of  the  hill 
on  which  my  father's  house  stood  planted.  For  some 
while  he  skirted,  with  attentive  eyes,  the  margin  of 
the  thicket.  Then,  seeming  to  recognize  some  mark, 
for  his  countenance  became  immediately  lightened  of 
thought,   he  paused  and  addressed   me. 

"Here,"  said  he,  "is  the  entrance  of  the  secret  path 
that  I  have  mentioned,  and  here  you  shall  await  me. 
I  but  pass  some  hundreds  of  yards  into  the  swamp  to 
bury  my  poor  treasure;  as  soon  as  that  is  safe,  I  will 
return." 


200  U/orKs    of   Robert    Couis    SteueosoD 

It  was  in  vain  that  I  sought  to  dissuade  him,  urg- 
ing the  dangers  of  the  place;  in  vain  that  I  begged 
to  be  allowed  to  follow,  pleading  the  black  blood  that 
I  now  knew  to  circulate  in  ray  veins.  To  all  rny  ap- 
peals he  turned  a  deaf  ear,  and,  bending  back  a  por- 
tion of  the  screen  of  bushes,  disappeared  into  the  pes- 
tilential  silence  of  the   swamp. 

At  the  end  of  a  full  hour  the  bushes  were  once 
more  thrust  aside,  and  my  father  stepped  from  out  the 
thicket  and  paused  and  almost  staggered  in  the  first 
shock  of  the  blinding  sunlight.  His  face  was  of  a  sin- 
gular dusky  red;  and  yet  for  all  the  heat  of  the  tropi- 
cal noon,    he  did   not  seem  to   sweat. 

"You  are  tired,"  I  cried,  springing  to  meet  him. 
"You  are  ill." 

"I  am  tired,"  he  replied;  "the  air  in  that  jungle 
stifles  one;  my  eyes,  besides,  have  grown  accustomed 
t;>  its  gloom,  and  the  strong  sunshine  pierces  them  like 
knives.  A  moment,  Teresa,  give  me  but  a  moment. 
All  shall  yet  be  well.  I  have  buried  the  hoard  under 
a  cypress,  immediately  beyond  the  bayou,  on  the  left 
hand  margin  of  the  path;  beautiful,  bright  things,  they 
now  lie  whelmed  in  slime;  you  shall  find  them  there, 
if  needful.  But  come,  let  us  to  the  house;  it  is  time 
to  eat  against  our  journey  of  the  night;  to  eat  and 
then  to  sleep,  my  poor  Teresa;  then  to  sleep."  And 
he  looked  upon  me  out  of  bloodshot  eyes,  shaking  his 
head   as  if  in   pity. 

We  went  hurriedly,  for  he  kept  murmuring  that  he 
had  been  gone  too  long  and  that  the  servants  might 
suspect;  passed  through  the  airy  stretch  of  the  veranda, 
and  came  at   length    into    the    grateful    twilight    of    the 


Jbe    Dynamiter  201 

shuttered  house.  The  meal  was  spread;  the  house  serv- 
ants, already  informed  by  the  boatmen  of  the  master's 
return,  were  all  back  at  their  posts,  and  terrified,  as 
I  could  see,  to  face  me.  My  father  still  murmuring  of 
haste  with  weary  and  feverish  pertinacity,  I  hurried  at 
once  to  take  my  place  at  table;  but  I  had  no  sooner 
left  his  arm  than  he  paused  and  thrust  forth  both  his 
hands  with  a  strange  gesture  of  groping.  "How  is 
this?"  he  cried,  in  a  sharp,  inhuman  voice.  "Am  I 
blind?"  I  ran  to  him  and  tried  to  lead  him  to  the 
table;  but  he  resisted  and  stood  stiffly  where  he  was, 
opening  and  shutting  his  jaws,  as  if  in  a  painful  effort 
after  breath.  Then  suddenly  he  raised  both  hands  to 
his  temples,  cried  out,  "My  head,  my  head!"  and 
reeled   and  fell   against   the   wall. 

I  knew  too  well  what  it  must  be.  I  turned  and 
begged  the  servants  to  relieve  him.  But  they,  with 
one  accord,  denied  the  possibility  of  hope;  the  master 
had  gone  into  the  swamp,  they  said,  the  master  must 
die;  all  help  was  idle.  Why  should  I  dwell  upon  his 
sufferings?  I  had  him  carried  to  a  bed,  and  watched 
beside  him.  He  lay  still, .  and  at  times  ground  his 
teefch,  and  talked  at  times  unintelligibly,  only  that  one 
word  of  hurry,  hurry,  coming  distinctly  to  my  ears, 
and  telling  me  that,  even  in  the  last  struggle  with  the 
powers  of  death,  his  mind  was  still  tortured  by  his 
daughter's  peril.  The  sun  had  gone  down,  the  dark- 
ness had  fallen,  when  I  perceived  that  I  was  alone  on 
this  unhappy  earth.  What  thought  had  I  of  flight,  of 
safety,  of  the  impending  dangers  of  my  situation?  Be- 
side the  body  of  my  last  friend,  I  had  forgotten  all 
except  the   natural  pangs  of  my   bereavement. 


202  U/orKs   of   Robert   Couls   Steueosor) 

The  sun  was  some  four  hours  above  the  eastern 
line,  when  I  was  called  to  a  knowledge  of  the  things 
of  earth,  by  the  entrance  of  the  slave-girl  to  whom  I 
have  already  referred.  The  poor  soul  was  indeed  de- 
votedly attached  to  me;  and  it  was  with  streaming 
tears  that  she  broke  to  me  the  import  of  her  coming. 
"With  the  first  light  of  dawn  a  boat  had  reached  our 
landing-place,  and  set  on  shore  upon  our  isle  (till  now 
so  fortunate)  a  party  of  officers  bearing  a  warrant  to 
arrest .  my  father's  person,  and  a  man  of  a  gross  body 
and  low  manners,  who  declared  the  island,  the  planta- 
tion and  all  its  human  chattels  to  be  now  his  own. 
"I  think,"  said  my  slave  girl,  "he  must  be  a  politi- 
cian or  some  very  powerful  sorcerer;  for  Madam  Men- 
dizabal  had  no  sooner  seen  them  coming  than  she  took 
to  the  woods.*' 

"Fool,"  said  I,  "it  was  the  officers  she  feared;  and 
at  any  rate  why  does  that  beldam  still  dare  to  pollute 
the  island  with  her  presence?  And,  oh,  Cora,"  I  ex- 
claimed, remembering  my  grief,  "what  matter  all  these 
troubles   to   an   orphan?" 

"Mistress,"  said  she,  "L  must  remind  you  of  two 
things.  Never  speak  as  you  do  now  of  Madam  Men- 
dizabal;  or  never  to  a  person  of  color;  for  she  is  the 
most  powerful  woman  in  this  world,  and  her  real  name 
even,  if  one  durst  pronounce  it,  were  a  spell  to  raise 
the  dead.  And  whatever  you  do,  speak  no  more  of 
her  to  your  unhappy  Cora;  for  though  it  is  possible 
she  may  be  afraid  of  the  police  (and  indeed  I  think 
that  I  have  heard  that  she  is  in  hiding),  and  though 
I  know  that  you  will  laugh  and  not  believe,  yet  it  is 
true,    and    proved,    and    known,    that    she    hears    every 


fbe   Dynamiter  5J03 

word  that  people  utter  in  this  whole,  vast  world;  and 
your  poor  Cora  is  already  deep  enough  in  her  black 
looks.  She  looks  at  me,  mistress,  till  my  blood  turns 
ice.  That  is  the  first  I  had  to  say;  and  now  for  the 
second:  do,  pray,  for  Heaven's  sake,  bear  in  mind  that 
you  are  no  longer  the  poor  Seuor's  daughter.  He  is 
gone,  dear  gentleman;  and  now  you  are  no  more  than 
a  common  slave-girl  like  myself.  The  man  to  whom 
you  belong  calls  for  you;  oh,  my  dear  mistress,  go  at 
once!  With  your  youth  and  beauty,  you  may  still,  if 
you  are  winning  and  obedient,  secure  yourself  an  easy 
life." 

For  a  moment  I  looked  on  the  creature  with  the 
indignation  you  may  conceive;  the  next  it  was  gone: 
she  did  but  speak  after  her  kind,  as  the  bird  sings  or 
cattle  bellow.  "Go,"  said  I.  "Go,  Cora.  I  thank  you 
for  your  kind  intentions.  Leave  me  alone  one  moment 
with  my  dead  father;  and  tell  this  man  that  I  will 
come  at  once." 

She  went;  and  I,  turning  to  the  bed  of  death,  ad- 
dressed to  those  deaf  ears  the  last  appeal  and  defense 
of  my  beleaguered  innocence.  "Father,"  I  said,  "it 
was  your  last  thought,  even  in  the  pangs  of  dissolution, 
that  your  daughter  should  escape  disgrace.  Here,  at 
your  side,  I  swear  to  you  that  purpose  shall  be  carried 
out;  by  what  means,  I  know  not;  by  crime,  if  need 
be;  and  Heaven  forgive  both  you  and  me  and  our  op- 
pressors, and  Heaven  help  my  helplessness!"  Thereupon 
I  felt  strengthened  as  by  long  repose;  stepped  to  the 
mirror,  ay,  even  in  that  chamber  of  the  dead;  hastily 
arranged  my  hair,  refreshed  my  tear-worn  eyes,  breathed 
a   dumb   farewell   to  the  originator  of   my  days  and   sor- 


204  U/orKs  of  Hobert  Coui5  Steueojoi) 

rows;  and  composing  my  features  to  a  smile,  went 
forth  to  meet  my  master. 

He  was  in  a  great,  hot  bustle,  reviewing  that  house, 
once  ours,  to  which  he  had  but  now  succeeded;  a  cor- 
pulent, sanguine  man  of  middle  age,  sensual,  vulgar, 
humorous,  and,  if  I  judged  rightly,  not  ill-disposed  by 
nature.  But  the  sparkle  that  came  into  his  eye  as  he 
observed  me  enter   warned   me  to  expect   the   worst. 

"Is  this  your  late  mistress?"  he  inquried  of  the 
slaves:  and  when  he  had  learned  it  was  so,  instantly 
dismissed  them.  "Now,  my  dear,"  said  he,  "I  am  a 
plain  man:  none  of  your  damned  Spaniards,  but  a  true 
blue,  hard-working  honest  Englishman.  My  name  is 
Caulder." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  I,  and  courtesied  very  smartly 
as   I   had   seen  the   servants. 

"Come,"  said  he,  "this  is  better  than  I  had  expected; 
and  if  you  choose  to  be  dutiful  in  the  station  to  which 
it  has  pleased  God  to  call  you,  you  will  find  me  a 
very  kind  old  fellow.  I  like  your  looks,"  he  added, 
calling  me  by  my  name,  which  he  scandalously  mispro- 
nounced. "Is  your  hair  all  your  own?"  he  then  inquired 
with  a  certain  sharpness,  and  coming  up  to  me,  as 
though  I  were  a  horse,  he  grossly  satisfied  his  doubts. 
I  was  all  one  flame  from  head  to  foot,  but  I  contained 
my  righteous  anger  and  submitted.  "That  is  very  well," 
he  continued,  chucking  me  good-humoredly  under  the 
chin.  "You  will  have  no  cause  to  regret  coming  to 
old  Caulder,  eh?  But  that  is  by  the  way.  What  is 
more  to  the  point  is  this:  your  late  master  was  a  most 
dishonest  rogue  and  levanted  with  some  valuable  prop- 
erty  that    belonged    of    rights    to   me.     Now,    considering 


Jfye   Dynamiter  205 

your  relation  to  him,  I  regard  you  as  the  likeliest  person 
to  know  what  has  become  of  it;  and  I  warn  you,  be- 
fore you  answer,  that  my  whole  future  kindness  will 
depend  upon  your  honesty.  I  am  an  honest  man  my- 
self,   and   expect   the   same   in   my   servants." 

"Do  you  mean  the  jewels?"  said  I,  sinking  my  voice 
into  a  whisper. 

"That  is  just  precisely  what  I  do,"  said  he,  and 
chuckled. 

"Hush!"   said    I. 

"Hush?"  he  repeated.  "And  why  hush?  I  am  on 
my  own  place,  I  would  have  you  to  know,  and  sur- 
rounded  by   my   own  lawful   servants." 

"Are  the  officers  gone?"  I  asked;  and  oh,  how  my 
hopes  hung  upon  the  answer. 

"They  are,"  said  he,  looking  somewhat  disconcerted. 
"Why  do  you  ask?" 

"I  wish  you  had  kept  them,"  I  answered,  solemnly 
enough,  although  my  heart  at  that  same  moment  leaped 
with  exultation.  "Master,  I  must  not  conceal  from  you 
the  truth.  The  servants  on  this  estate  are  in  a  dan- 
gerous   condition,    and    mutiny   has   long   been   brewing." 

"Why,"  he  cried,  "I  never  saw  a  milder-looking  lot 
of  niggers  in  my  life."  But  for  all  that  he  turned 
somewhat  pale. 

"Did  they  tell  you,"  I  continued,  "that  Madam 
Mendizabal  is  on  the  island?  that,  since  her  coming, 
they  obey  none  but  her?  that  if,  this  morning,  they 
have  received  you  with  even  decent  civility,  it  was  only 
by  her  orders — issued  with  what  after-thought  I  leave 
you  to    consider?" 

"Madam   Jezebel?"    said  he.     ""Well,  she   is  a  danger- 


206  U/orl^s   of   Robert   Couis   Stevenson 

ous  devil;  the  police  are  after  her,  besides,  for  a  whole 
series  of  murders;  but  after  all,  .  what  then?  To  be 
sure,  she  has  a  great  influence  with  you  colored  folk. 
But  what  in   fortune's  name  can  be  her    errand    here?" 

"The  jewels,"  I  replied.  "Ah,  sir,  had  you  seen 
that  treasure,  sapphire  and  emerald  and  opal,  and  the 
golden  topaz,  and  rubies,  red  as  the  sunset — of  what 
incalculable  worth,  of  what  unequaled  beauty  to  the  eye! 
— had  you  seen  it,  as  I  have,  and  alas!  as  she  has — 
you  would   understand   and   tremble   at  your   danger." 

"She  has  seen  them!"  he  cried,  and  I  could  see  by 
his  face   that  my  audacity  was    justified   by  its   success. 

I  caught  his  hand  in  mine.  "My  master,"  said  I, 
"I  am  now  yours;  it  is  my  duty,  it  should  be  my 
pleasure,  to  defend  your  interests  and  life.  Hear  my 
advice  then;  and,  I  conjure  you,  be  guided  by  prudence. 
Follow  me  privily;  let  none  see  where  we  are  going;  I 
will  lead  you  to  the  place  where  the  treasure  has  been 
buried;  that  once  disinterred,  let  us  make  straight  for  the 
boat,  escape  to  the  mainland,  and  not  return  to  this  dan- 
gerous isle   without   the   countenance  of  soldiers." 

"What  free  man  in  a  free  land  would  have  credited 
so  sudden  a  devotion?  But  this  oppressor,  through  the 
very  arts  and  sophistries  he  had  abused,  to  quiet  the 
rebellion  of  his  conscience  and  to  convince  himself  that 
slavery  was  natural,  fell  like  a  child  into  the  trap  I 
laid  for  him.  He  praised  and  thanked  me;  told  me  I 
had  all  the  qualities  he  valued  in  a  servant;  and  when 
he  had  questioned  me  further  as  to  the  nature  and 
value  of  the  treasure,  and  I  had  once  more  artfully 
inflamed  his  greed,  bade  me  without  delay  proceed  to 
carry  out   my  plan  of  action. 


Jlpe   Dynamiter  207 

From  a  shed  in  the  garden  I  took  a  pick  and  a 
shovel;  and  thence,  by  devious  paths  among  the  mag- 
nolias, led  my  master  to  the  entrance  of  the  swamp.  I 
walked  first,  carrying,  as  I  was  now  in  duty  bound, 
the  tools,  and  glancing  continually  behind  me,  lest  we 
should  be  spied  upon  and  followed.  "When  we  were 
come  as  far  as  the  beginning  of  the  path,  it  flashed 
into  my  mind  I  had  forgotten  meat;  and  leaving  Mr. 
Caulder  in  the  shadow  of  a  tree,  I  returned  alone  to 
the  house  for  a  basket  of  provisions.  Were  they  for 
him?  I  asked  myself.  And  a  voice  within  me  answered, 
No.  While  we  were  face  to  face,  while  I  still  saw 
before  my  eyes  the  man  to  whom  I  belonged  as  the 
hand  belongs  to  the  body,  my  indignation  held  me 
bravely  up.  But  now  that  I  was  alone,  I  conceived  a 
sickness  at  myself  and  my  designs  that  I  could  scarce 
endure;  I  longed  to  throw  myself  at  his  feet,  avow  my 
intended  treachery,  and  warn  him  from  that  pestilential 
swamp,  to  which  I  was  decoying  him  to  die;  but  my 
vow  to  my  dead  father,  my  duty  to  my  innocent 
youth,  prevailed  against  these  scruples;  and  though  my 
face  was  pale  and  must  have  reflected  the  horror  that 
.oppressed  my  spirits,  it  was  with  a  firm  step  that  I 
returned  to  the  borders  of  the  swamp,  and  with  smil- 
ing lips  bade  him   rise  and  follow  me. 

The  path  on  which  we  now  entered  was  cut  like  a 
tunnel,  through  the  living  jungle.  On  either  hand  and 
overhead,  the  mass  of  foliage  was  continuously  joined; 
the  day  sparingly  filtered  through  the  depth  of  super- 
impending  wood;  and  the  air  was  hot  like  steam,  and 
heavy  with  vegetable  odors,  and  lay  like  a  load  upon 
the    lungs    and    brain.     Under    foot    a    great    depth    of 


208  U/orKs   of   Robert    Couis    Stever>5or> 

mould  received  our  silent  footprints;  on  each  side  mi- 
mosas as  tall  as  a  man  shrank  from  my  passing  skirts 
with  a  continuous  hissing  rustle;  and  but  for  these 
sentient  vegetables,  all  in  that  den  of  pestilence  was 
motionless  and  noiseless. 

"We  had  gone  but  a  little  way  in  when  Mr.  Caulder 
was  seized  with  sudden  nausea,  and  must  sit  down  a 
moment  on  the  path.  My  heart  yearned,  as  I  beheld 
him;  and  I  seriously  begged  the  doomed  mortal  to  re- 
turn upon  his  steps.  What  were  a  few  jewels  in  the 
scales  with  life?  I  asked.  But  no,  he  said;  that  witch 
Madam  Jezebel  would  find  them  out;  he  was  an  honest 
man,  and  would  not  stand  to  be  defrauded,  and  so  forth, 
panting,  the  while,  like  a  sick  dog.  Presently  he  got 
to  his  feet  again,  protesting  he  had  conquered  his  un- 
easiness; but  as  we  again  began  to  go  forward,  I  saw 
in  his   changed  countenance   the   first  approach   of  death. 

"Master,"  said  I,  "you  look  pale,  deathly  pale;  37our 
pallor  fills  me  with  dread.  Your  eyes  are  bloodshot; 
they   are  red   like   the   rubies   that   we  seek." 

"Wench,"  he  cried,  "look  before  you;  look  at  your 
steps.  I  declare  to  Heaven,  if  you  annoy  me  once 
again  by  looking  back,  I  shall  remind  you  of  the 
change  in   your   position." 

A  little  after,  I  observed  a  worm  upon  the  ground, 
and  told,  in  a  whisper,  that  its  touch  was  death.  Pres- 
ently a  great  green  serpent,  vivid  as  the  grass  in  spring, 
wound  rapidly  across  the  path;  and  once  again  I 
paused  and  looked  back  at  my  companion  with  a  hor- 
ror in  my  eyes.  "The  coffiD  snake,"  said  I,  "the 
snake  that   dogs  its   victim   like  a   hound." 

But    he  was    not    to    be    dissuaded.     "I    am    an    old 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  209 

traveler,"  said  he.  "This  is  a  foul  jungle  indeed;  but 
we  shall   soon  be  at  an   end." 

"Ay,"  said  I,  looking  at  him  with  a  strange  smile, 
"what  end?" 

Thereupon  he  laughed  again  and  again,  but  not  very 
heartily;  and  then,  perceiving  that  the  path  began  to 
widen  and  grow  higher,  "There!"  said  he.  "What  did 
I  tell  you?    We  are   past   the    worst." 

Indeed,  we  had  now  come  to  the  bayou,  which  was 
in  that  place  very  narrow  and  bridged  across  by  a 
fallen  trunk;  but  on  either  hand  we  could  see  it 
broaden  out,  under  a  cavern  of  great  arms  of  trees 
and  hanging  creepers;  sluggish,  putrid,  of  a  horrible 
and  sickly  stench,  floated  on  by  the  flat  heads  of  alli- 
gators,   and  its  banks  alive   with  scarlet  crabs. 

"If  we  fall  from  that  unsteady  bridge,"  said  I, 
"see,  where  the  cayman  lies  ready  to  devour  us!  If, 
by  the  least  divergence  from  the  path,  we  should  be 
snared  in  a  morass,  see,  where  those  myriads  of  scarlet 
vermin  scour  the  border  of  the  thicket!  Once  helpless, 
how  they  would  swarm  together  to  the  assault!  What 
could  a  man  do  against  a  thousand  of  such  mailed 
assailants?  And  what  a  death  were  that,  to  perish 
alive  under  their   claws!" 

"Are  you  mad,  girl?"  he  cried.  "I  bid  you  be 
silent   and  lead   on." 

Again    I    looked    upon    him,   half    relenting;    and    at 

that    he     raised    the    stick    that   was    in    his    hand   and 

cruelly   struck    me    on    the    face.     "Lead   on!"    he    cried 

again.     "Must    I   be    all    day,    catching  my  death  in  this 

vile   slough,    and   all   for  a  prating  slave-girl?" 

I    took    the    blow  in    silence,    I    took  it   smiling;    but 

14-  Vol.  XIV. 


210  U/orl^s    of   Robert    Couis   Steuenson 

the  blood  welled  back  upon  my  heart.  Something,  I 
know  not  what,  fell  at  that  moment  with  a  dull  plunge 
in  the  waters  of  the  lagoon,  and  I  told  myself  that  it 
was  my  pity  that  had   fallen. 

On  the  further  side,  to  which  we  now  hastily  scram- 
bled, the  wood  was  not  so  dense,  the  web  of  creepers 
not  so  solidly  convolved.  It  was  possible,  here  and 
there,  to  mark  a  patch  of  somewhat  brighter  daylight, 
or  to  distinguish,  through  the  lighter  web  of  parasites, 
the  proportions  of  some  soaring  tree.  The  cypress  on 
the  left  stood  very  visibly  forth  upon  the  edge  of  such 
a  clearing;  the  path  in  that  place  widened  broadly; 
and  there  was  a  patch  of  open  ground,  beset  with 
horrible  ant-heaps,  thick  with  their  artificers.  I  laid 
down  the  tools  and  basket  by  the  cypress  root,  where 
they  were  instantly  blackened  over  with  the  crawling 
ants;  and  looked  once  more  in  the  face  of  my  uncon- 
scious victim.  Mosquitoes  and  foul  flies  wove  so  close 
a  veil  between  us  that  his  features  were  obscured;  and 
the  sound  of  their  flight  was  like  the  turning  of  a 
mighty  wheel. 

"Here,"  I  said,  "is  the  spot.  I  cannot  dig,  for  I 
have  not  learned  to  use  such  instruments;  but,  for  your 
own   sake,  I   beseech  you  to  be  swift  in   what  you   do." 

He  had  sunk  once  more  upon  the  ground,  panting 
like  a  fish;  and  I  saw  rising  in  his  face  the  same 
dusky  flush  that  had  mantled  on  my  father's.  "I  feel 
ill,"  he  gasped,  "horribly  ill;  the  swamp  turns  around 
me;  the  drone  of  these  carrion  flies  confounds  me.  Have 
you    not   wine?" 

I  gave  him  a  glass,  and  he  drank  greedily.  "It  is 
for  you  to    think,"   said   I,    "if  you   should   further  per- 


Jt)e   Dynamiter  211 

severe.  The  swamp  has  an  ill  name."  And  at  the  word 
I   ominously   nodded. 

"Give  me  the  pick,"  said  he.  "Where  are  the  jewels 
buried?" 

I  told  him  vaguely;  and  in  the  sweltering  heat  and 
closeness,  and  dim  twilight  of  the  jungle,  he  began  to 
wield  the  pickax,  swinging  it  overhead  with  the  vigor 
of  a  healthy  man.  At  first,  there  broke  forth  upon  him 
a  strong  sweat,  that  made  his  face  to  shine,  and  in 
which  the  greedy   insects   settled   thickly. 

"To  sweat  in  such  a  place,"  said  I.  "Oh,  master, 
is  this   wise?     Fever  is   drunk    in    through    open    pores." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  screamed,  pausing  with 
the  pick  buried  in  the  soil.  "Do  you  seek  to  drive  me 
mad?  Do  you  think  I  do  not  understand  the  danger 
that   I   run?" 

"That  is  all  I  want,"  said  I;  "I  only  wish  you  to 
be  swift."  And  then,  my  mind  flitting  to  my  father's 
death-bed,  I  began  to  murmur,  scarce  above  my  breath, 
the  same  vain  repetition  of  words,  Hurry,  hurry, 
hurry. 

Presently,  to  my  surprise,  the  treasure-seeker  took 
them  up;  and  while  he  still  wielded  the  pick,  but  now 
with  staggering  and  uncertain  blows,  repeated  to  him- 
self, as  it  were  the  burden  of  a  song,  "Hurry,  hurry, 
hurry;"  and  then  again,  "There  is  no  time  to  lose; 
the  marsh  has  an  ill  name,  ill  name;"  and  then  back 
to  "Hurry,  hurry,  hurry,"  with  a  dreadful,  mechanical, 
hurried  and  yet  wearied  utterance,  as  a  sick  man  rolls 
upon  his  pillow.  The  sweat  had  disappeared;  he  was 
now  dry,  but  all  that  I  could  see  of  him,  of  the  same 
dull    brick    red.     Presently    his    pick    unearthed    the    bag 


212  U/orKs  °f  Robert  Couis  Steueosoo 

of  jewels;  but  he  did  not  observe  it,  and  continued 
hewing   the  soil. 

"Master,"   said   I,    "there  is   the   treasure." 

He  seemed  to  waken  from  a  dream.  "Where?"  he 
cried;  and  then,  seeing  it  before  his  eyes,  "Can  this 
be  possible?"  he  added.  "I  must  be  light-headed.  Girl," 
he  cried  suddenly,  with  the  same  screaming  tone  of 
voice  that  I  had  once  before  observed,  "what  is  wrong? 
is   this   swamp   accursed?" 

"It  is  a  grave,"  I  answered.  "You  will  not  go 
out  alive;    and   as   for  me,    my  life  is   in   God's  hands." 

He  fell  upon  the  ground  like  a  man  struck  by 
a  blow,  but  whether  from  the  effect  of  my  words, 
or  from  sudden  seizure  of  the  malady,  I  cannot  tell. 
Pretty  soon,  he  raised  his  head.  "You  have  brought 
me  here  to  die,"  he  said;  "at  the  risk  of  your  own 
days,   you  have  condemned  me.    Why?" 

"To  save  my  honor,"  I  replied.  "Bear  me  out  that 
I  have  warned  you.  Greed  of  these  pebbles,  and  not 
I,   has  been  your  undoer." 

He  took  out  his  revolver  and  handed  it  to  me. 
"You  see,"  he  said,  "I  could  have  killed  you  even 
yet.  But  I  am  dying,  as  you  say;  nothing  could  save 
me;  and  my  bill  is  long  enough  already.  Dear  me, 
dear  me,"  he  said,  looking  in  my  face  with  a  curious, 
puzzled  and  pathetic  look,  like  a  dull  child  at  school, 
"if  there  be  a  judgment  afterward,  my  bill  is  long 
enough. ' ' 

At  that,  I  broke  into  a  passion  of  weeping,  crawled 
at  his  feet,  kissed  his  hands,  begged  his  forgiveness, 
put  the  pistol  back  into  his  grasp  and  besought  him  to 
avenge  his   death;    for  indeed,   if  with   my  life    I    could 


T*?e    Dynamiter  213 

have  brought  back  his,  I  had  not  balanced  at  the  cost. 
But  he  was  determined,  the  poor  soul,  that  I  should 
yet  more   bitterly   regret  my   act. 

"I  have  nothing  to  forgive,"  said  he.  "Dear  heaven, 
what  a  thing  is  an  old  fool!  I  thought,  upon  my 
word,    you   had   taken   quite   a  fancy   to   me." 

He  was  seized,  at  the  same  time,  with  a  dreadful, 
swimming  dizziness,  clung  to  me  like  a  child,  and 
called  upon  the  name  of  some  woman.  Presently  this 
spasm,  which  I  watched  with  choking  tears,  lessened 
and  died  away;  and  he  came  again  to  the  full  posses- 
sion of  his  mind.  "I  must  write  my  will,"  he  said. 
"Get  out  my  pocketbook."  I  did  so,  and  he  wrote 
hurriedly  on  one  page  with  a  pencil.  "Do  not  let  my 
son  know,"  he  said,  "he  is  a  cruel  dog,  is  my  son 
Philip;  do  not  let  him  know  how  you  have  paid  me 
out;"  and  then  all  of  a  sudden,  "God,"  he  cried,  "I 
am  blind,"  and  clapped  both  hands  before  his  eyes; 
and  then  again,  and  in  a  groaning  whisper,  "Don't 
leave  me  to  the  crabs!"  I  swore  I  would  be  true  to 
him  so  long  as  a  pulse  stirred;  and  I  redeemed  my 
promise.  I  sat  there  and  watched  him,  as  I  had 
watched  my  father,  but  with  what  different,  with  what 
appalling  thoughts!  Through  the  long  afternoon  he 
gradually  sank.  All  that  while,  I  fought  an  uphill 
battle  to  shield  him  from  the  swarms  of  ants  and  the 
cloud  of  mosquitoes:  the  prisoner  of  my  crime.  The 
night  fell,  the  roar  of  insects  instantly  redoubled  in  the 
dark  arcades  of  the  swamp;  and  still  I  was  not  sure 
that  he  had  breathed  his  last.  At  length,  the  flesh  of 
his  hand,  which  I  yet  held  in  mine,  grew  chill  between 
my  fingers,    and   I   knew   that   I   was   free. 


214  U/orl^s    of   Robert    Couis    Steuei)&on 

I  took  his  pocketbook  and  the  revolver,  being  resolved 
rather  to  die  than  to  be  captured,  and  laden  besides 
with  the  basket  and  the  bag  of  gems,  set  forward 
toward  the  north.  The  swamp,  at  that  hour  of  the  night, 
was  filled  with  a  continuous  din:  animals  and  insects 
of  all  kinds,  and  all  inimical  to  life,  contributing  their 
parts.  Yet  in  the  midst  of  this  turmoil  of  sound,  I 
walked  as  though  my  eyes  were  bandaged,  beholding 
nothing.  The  soil  sank  under  my  foot,  with  a  horrid, 
slippery  consisteDce,  as  though  I  were  walking  among 
toads;  the  touch  of  the  thick  wall  of  foliage,  by  which 
alone  I  guided  myself,  affrighted  ms  like  the  touch  of 
serpents;  the  darkness  checked  my  breathing  like  a  gag; 
indeed,  I  have  never  suffered  such  extremes  of  fear  as 
during  that  nocturnal  walk,  nor  have  I  ever  known  a 
more  sensible  relief  than  when  I  found  the  path  begin- 
ning to  mount  and  to  grow  firmer  under  foot,  and  saw, 
although  still  some  way  in  front  of  me,  the  silver 
brightness   of  the  moon. 

Presently,  I  had  crossed  the  last  of  the  jungle,  and 
come  forth  among  noble  and  lofty  woods,  clean  rock, 
the  clean,  dry  dust,  the  aromatic  smell  of  mountain 
plants  that  had  been  baked  all  day  in  sunlight,  and 
the  expressive  silence  of  the  night.  My  negro  blood  had 
carried  me  unhurt  across  that  reeking  and  pestiferous 
morass;  by  mere  good  fortune,  I  had  escaped  the  crawl- 
ing and  stinging  vermin  with  which  it  was  alive;  and 
I  had  now  before  me  the  easier  portion  of  my  enterprise, 
to  cross  the  isle  and  to  make  good  my  arrival  at  the 
haven  and  my  acceptance  on  the  English  yacht.  It  was 
impossible  by  night  to  follow  such  a  track  as  my 
father  had   described;    and   I  was  casting  about  for  any 


Jtye   Dynamiter  215 

landmark,  and,  in  my  ignorance,  vainly  consulting  the 
disposition  of  the  stars,  when  there  fell  upon  my  ear, 
from  somewhere  far  in  front,  the  sound  of  many 
voices  hurriedly  singing. 

I  scarce  knew  upon  what  grounds  I  acted;  but  I 
shaped  my  steps  in  the  direction  of  that  sound;  and 
in  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  walking  came  unperceived  to 
the  margin  of  an  open  glade.  It  was  lighted  by  the 
strong  moon  and  by  the  flames  of  a  fire.  In  the  midst, 
there  stood  a  little  low  and  rude  building,  surmounted 
by  a  cross:  a  chapel,  as  I  then  remembered  to  have 
heard,  long  since  desecrated  and  given  over  to  the  rites 
of  Hoodoo.  Hard  by  the  steps  of  entrance  was  a  black 
mass,  continually  agitated  and  stirring  to  and  fro  as  if 
with  inarticulate  life;  and  this  I  presently  perceived  to 
be  a  heap  of  cocks,  hares,  dogs  and  other  birds  and 
animals,  still  struggling,  but  helplessly  tethered  and 
cruelly  tossed  one  upon  another.  Both  the  fire  and 
the  chapel  were  surrounded  by  a  ring  of  kneeling  Afri 
cans,  both  men  and  women.  Now  they  would  raise 
their  palms  half-closed  to  heaven,  with  a  peculiar,  pas- 
sionate gesture  of  supplication;  now  they  would  bow 
their  heads  and  spread  their  hands  before  them  on  the 
ground.  As  the  double  movement  passed  and  repassed 
along  the  line,  the  heads  kept  rising  and  falling,  like 
waves  upon  the  sea;  and  still,  as  if  in  time  to  these 
gesticulations,  the  hurried,  chant  continued.  I  stood  spell- 
bound, knowing  that  my  life  depended  by  a  hair,  know- 
ing that  I  had  stumbled  on  a  celebration  of  the  rites 
of   Hoodoo. 

Presently,    the   door  of    the    chapel   opened    and   there 
came   forth  a  tall  negro,    entirely  nude,    and    bearing    in 


216  U/orKs  of  Robert  Couis  Steueoson 

his  hand  the  sacrificial  knife.  He  was  followed  by  an 
apparition  still  more  strange  and  shocking:  Madam 
Mendizabal,  naked  also,  and  carrying  in  both  hands  and 
raised  to  the  level  of  her  face,  an  open  basket  of 
wicker.  It  was  filled  with  coiling  snakes;  and  these,  as 
she  stood  there  with  the  uplifted  basket,  shot  through 
the  osier  grating  and  curled  about  her  arms.  At  the 
sight  of  this,  the  fervor  of  the  crowd  seemed  to  swell 
suddenly  higher;  and  the  chant  rose  in  pitch  and  grew 
more  irregular  in  time  and  accent.  Then,  at  a  sign 
from  the  tall  negro,  where  he  stood,  motionless  and 
smiling,  in  the  moon  and  firelight,  the  singing  died 
away,  and  there  began  the  second  stage  of  this  barbarous 
and   bloody   celebration. 

From  different  parts  of  the  ring,  one  after  another, 
man  or  woman,  ran  forth  into  the  midst;  ducked,  with 
that  same  gesture  of  the  thrown-up  hand,  before  the 
priestess  and  her  snakes;  and,  with  various  adjurations, 
uttered  aloud  the  blackest  wishes  of  the  heart.  Death 
and  disease  were  the  favors  usually  invoked:  the  death 
or  the  disease  of  enemies  or  rivals;  some  calling  down 
these  plagues  upon  the  nearest  of  their  own  blood,  and 
one,  to  whom  I  swear  I  had  been  never  less  than  kind, 
invoking  them  upon  myself.  At  each  petition,  the  tall 
negro,  still  smiling,  picked  up  some  bird  or  animal  from 
the  heaving  mass  upon  his  left,  slew  it  with  the  knife, 
and  tossed  its  body  on  the  ground.  At  length,  it 
seemed,  it  reached  the  turn  of  the  high-priestess.  She 
set  down  the  basket  on  the  steps,  moved  into  the  cen- 
ter of  the  ring,  groveled  in  the  dust  before  the  reptiles, 
and,  still  groveling,  lifted  up  her  voice  between  speech 
and    singing,    and   with    so    great,    with   so   insane   fervor 


Jf?e    Dynamiter  217 

of  excitement,  as  struck  a  sort  of  horror  through  my 
blood. 

"Power,"  she  began,  "whose  name  we  do  not  utter; 
power  that  is  neither  good  nor  evil,  but  below  them 
both;  stronger  than  good,  greater  than  evil — all  my  life 
long  I  have  adored  and  served  thee.  Who  has  shed 
blood  upon  thine  altars?  whose  voice  is  broken  with 
the  singing  of  thy  praises'?  whose  limbs  are  faint  before 
their  age  with  leaping  in  thy  revels?  Who  has  slain 
the  child  of  her  body?  I,"  she  cried,  "I,  Metamnbogu! 
By  my  own  name,  I  name  myself.  I  tear  away  the 
veil.  I  would  be  served  or  perish.  Hear  me,  slime  of 
the  fat  swamp,  blackness  of  the  thunder,  venom  of  the 
serpent's  udder — hear  or  slay  me!  I  would  have  two 
things,  O  shapeless  one,  O  horror  of  emptiness — two 
things,  or  die!  The  blood  of  my  white-faced  husband; 
oh!  give  me  that;  he  is  the  enemy  of  Hoodoo;  give 
me  his  blood!  And  yet  another,  O  racer  of  the  blind 
winds,  O  germinator  in  the  ruins  of  the  dead,  O  root 
of  life,  root  of  corruption!  I  grow  old,  I  grow  hideous; 
I  am  known,  I  am  hunted  for  my  life:  let  thy  serv- 
ant then  lay  by  this  outworn  body;  let  thy  chief- 
priestess  turn  again  to  the  blossom  of  her  days,  and 
be  a  girl  once  more,  and  the  desired  of  all  men,  even 
as  in  the  past!  And,  O  lord  and  master,  as  I  here 
ask  a  marvel  not  yet  wrought  since  we  were  torn 
from  the  old  land,  have  I  not  prepared  the  sacrifice  in 
which  thy  soul  delighteth— the    kid  without  the  horns?" 

Even  as  she  uttered  the  words,  there  was  a  great 
rumor  of  joy  through  all  the  circle  of  the  worshipers; 
it  rose,  and  fell,  and  rose  again;  and  swelled  at  last 
into    rapture,     when    the   tall    negro,    who    had    stepped 


218  U/orKs    of   Robert    Couij    Steueosoo 

an  instant  into  the  chapel,  reappeared  before  the  door, 
carrying  in  his  arms  the  body  of  the  slave-girl,  Cora.  I 
know  not  if  I  saw  what  followed.  When  next  my  mind 
awoke  to  a  clear  knowledge,  Cora  was  laid  upon  the 
steps  before  the  serpents;  the  negro  with  the  knife  stood 
over  her;  the  knife  rose,  and  at  this  I  screamed  out 
in  my  great  horror,  bidding  them,  in  God's  name,  to 
pause. 

A  stillness  fell  upon  the  mob  of  cannibals.  A  mo- 
ment more,  and  they  must  have  thrown  off  this  stupor, 
and  I  infallibly  have  perished.  But  Heaven  had  de- 
signed to  save  me.  The  silence  of  these  wretched  men 
was  not  yet  broken,  when  there  arose,  in  the  empty 
night,  a  sound  louder  than  the  roar  of  any  European 
tempest,  swifter  to  travel  than  the  wings  of  any  East- 
ern wind.  Blackness  ingulfed  the  world:  blackness, 
stabbed  across  from  every  side  by  intricate  and  blinding 
lightning.  Almost  in  the  same  second,  at  one  world- 
swallowing  stride,  the  heart  of  the  tornado  reached  the 
clearing.  I  heard  an  agonizing  crash,  and  the  light  of 
my  reason   was  overwhelmed. 

When  I  recovered  consciousness,  the  day  was  come. 
I  was  unhurt;  the  trees  close  about  me  had  not  lost 
a  bough;  and  I  might  have  thought  at  first  that  the 
tornado  was  a  feature  in  a  dream.  It  was  otherwise 
indeed;  for  when  I  looked  abroad,  I  perceived  I  had 
escaped  destruction  by  a  hand's-breadth.  Right  through 
the  forest,  which  here  covered  hill  and  dale,  the  storm 
had  plowed  a  lane  of  ruin.  On  either  hand,  the  trees 
waved  uninjured  in  the  air  of  the  morning;  but  in  the 
forthright  course  of  its  advance,  the  hurricane  had  left 
no    trophy    standing.     Every    thing,    in    that    line,    tree, 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  219 

man  or  animal,  the  desecrated  chapel  and  the  votaries 
of  Hoodoo,  had  been  subverted  and  destroyed  in  that 
brief  spasm  of  anger  of  the  powers  of  air.  Every 
thing,  but  a  yard  or  two  beyond  the  line  of  its  pass- 
age, humble  flower,  lofty  tree,  and  the  poor  vulnerable 
maid  who  now  kneeled  to  pay  her  gratitude  to  Heaven, 
awoke  unharmed  in  the  crystal  purity  and  peace  of  the 
new  day. 

To  move  by  the  path  of  the  tornado  was  a  thing 
impossible  to  man,  so  wildly  were  the  wrecks  of  the 
tall  forest  piled  together  by  that  fugitive  convulsion.  I 
crossed  it  indeed;  with  such  labor  and  patience,  with 
so  many  dangerous  slips  and  falls,  as  left  me,  at  the 
further  side,  bankrupt  alike  of  strength  and  courage. 
There  I  sat  down  a  while  to  recruit  my  forces;  and 
as  I  ate  (how  should  I  bless  the  kindliness  of  Heaven!) 
my  eyes,  flitting  to  and  fro  in  the  colonnade  of  the 
great  trees,  alighted  on  a  trunk  that  had  been  blazed. 
Yes,  by  the  directing  hand  of  Providence,  I  had  been 
conducted  to  the  very  track  I  was  to  follow.  "With 
what  a  light  heart  I  now  set  forth,  and  walking  with 
how  glad   a  step,    traversed   the   uplands  of  the  isle! 

It  was  hard  upon  the  hour  of  noon  when  I  came, 
all  tattered  and  wayworn,  to  the  summit  of  a  steep 
descent,  and  looked  below  me  on  the  sea.  About  all 
the  coast,  the  surf,  roused  by  the  tornado  of  the  night, 
beat  with  a  particular  fury  and  made  a  fringe  of  snow. 
Close  at  my  feet,  I  saw  a  haven,  set  in  precipitous 
and  palm-crowned  bluffs  of  rock.  Just  outside,  a  ship 
was  heaving  on  the  surge,  so  trimly  sparred,  so  glossily 
painted,  so  elegant  and  point-device  in  every  feature, 
that    my  heart   was    seized   with    admiration.      The    En- 


220  U/orl^5    of   Robert    Couij    Steueosoo 

glish  colors  blew  from  her  masthead;  and  from  my 
high  station,  I  caught  glimpses  of  her  snowy  planking, 
as  she  rolled  on  the  uneven  deep,  and  saw  the  sun 
glitter  on  the  brass  of  her  deck  furniture.  There,  then, 
was  my  ship  of  refuge;  and  of  all  my  difficulties  only 
one  remained:    to  get  on  board   of  her. 

Half  an  hour  later,  I  issued  at  last  out  of  the 
woods  on  the  margin  of  a  cove,  into  whose  jaws  the 
tossing  and  blue  billows  entered,  and  along  whose 
shores  they  broke  with  a  surprising  loudness.  A  wooded 
promontory  hid  the  yacht;  and  I  had  walked  some  dis- 
tance round  the  beach,  in  what  appeared  to  be  a  virgin 
solitude,  when  my  eye  fell  on  a  boat,  drawn  into  a 
natural  harbor,  where  it  rocked  in  safety,  but  deserted. 
I  looked  about  for  those  who  should  have  manned  her; 
and  presently,  in  the  immediate  entrance  of  the  wood, 
spied  the  red  embers  of  a  fire  and,  stretched  around 
in  various  attitudes,  a  party  of  slumbering  mariners. 
To  these  I  drew  near:  most  were  black,  a  few  white; 
but  all  were  dressed  with  the  conspicuous  decency  of 
yachtsmen;  and  one,  from  his  peaked  cap  and  glitter- 
ing buttons,  I  rightly  divined  to  be  an  officer.  Him, 
then,  I  touched  upon  the  shoulder.  He  started  up; 
the  sharpness  of  his  movement  woke  the  rest;  and 
they   all   stared   upon  me  in   surprise. 

"What  do  you  want?"    inquired   the  officer. 

"To  go  on  board  the  yacht,"    I   answered. 

I  thought  they  all  seemed  disconcerted  at  this;  and 
the  officer,  with  something  of  sharpness,  asked  me  who 
I  was.  Now  I  had  determined  to  conceal  my  name 
until  I  met  Sir  George;  and  the  first  name  that  rose 
to    my  lips   was    that    of    Senora    Mendizabal.      At    the 


Tfre    Dynamiter  221 

word,  there  went  a  shock  about  the  little  party  of  sea- 
men; the  negroes  stared  at  me  with  indescribable 
eagerness,  the  whites  themselves  with  something  of  a 
scared  surprise;  and  instantly  the  spirit  of  mischief 
prompted  me  to  add:  "And  if  the  name  is  new  to 
your  ears,    call   me   Metamnbogu." 

I  had  never  seen  an  effect  so  wonderful.  The  ne- 
groes threw  their  hands  into  the  air,  with  the  same 
gesture  I  remarked  the  night  before  about  the  Hoodoo 
camp-fire;  first  one,  and  then  another,  ran  forward  and 
kneeled  down  and  kissed  the  skirts  of  my  torn  dress; 
and  when  the  white  officer  broke  out  swearing  and 
calling  to  know  if  they  were  mad,  the  colored  seamen 
took  him  by  tha  shoulders,  dragged  him  on  one  side 
till  they  were  out  of  hearing,  and  surrounded  him  with 
open  mouths  and  extravagant  pantomime.  The  officer 
seemed  to  struggle  hard;  he  laughed  aloud,  and  I  saw 
him  make  gestures  of  dissent  and  protest;  but  in  the 
end,  whether  overcome  by  reason  or  simply  weary  of 
resistance,  he  gave  in — approached  me  civilly  enough, 
but  with  something  of  a  sneering  manner  underneath — 
and  touching  his  cap,  "My  lady,"  said  he,  "if  that  is 
what  you  are,    the   boat  is  ready." 

My  reception  on  board  the  "Nemorosa"  (for  so  the 
yacht  was  named)  partook  of  the  same  mingled  nature. 
We  were  scarcely  within  hail  of  that  great  and  elegant 
fabric,  where  she  lay  rolling  gunwale  under  and  churn- 
ing the  blue  sea  to  snow,  before  the  bulwarks  were 
lined  with  the  heads  of  a  great  crowd  of  seamen, 
black,  white  and  yellow;  and  these  and  the  few  who 
manned  the  boat  exchanging  shouts  in  some  lingua 
franca    incomprehensible   to  me.     All    eyes   were  directed 


222  U/orKs   of   Robert   Couis   Steuepsoo 

on  the  passenger,  and  once  more  I  saw  the  negroes 
toss  up  their  hands  to  heaven,  but  now  as  if  with 
passionate   wonder  and   delight. 

At  the  head  of  the  gangway  I  was  received  by  an- 
other officer,  a  gentlemanly  man  with  blonde  and  bushy 
whiskers,  and  to  whom  I  addressed  my  demand  to  see 
Sir   George. 

"But   this  is  not — "   he  cried,    and   paused. 

"I  know  it,"  returned  the  other  officer,  who  had 
brought  me  from  the  shore.  "But  what  the  devil  can 
we  do?     Look  at  all   the  niggers!" 

I  followed  his  direction;  and  as  my  eye  lighted 
upon  each,  the  poor  ignorant  Africans  ducked  and 
bowed  and  threw  their  hands  into  the  air,  as  though 
in  the  presence  of  a  creature  half  divine.  Apparently 
the  officer  with  the  whiskers  had  instantly  come  round 
to  the  opinion  of  his  subaltern,  for  he  now  addressed 
me  with  every  signal  of  respect. 

"Sir  George  is  at  the  island,  my  lady,"  said  he, 
"for  which,  with  your  ladyship's  permission,  I  shall 
immediately  make  all  sail.  The  cabins  are  prepared. 
Steward,    take   Lady   Greville  below." 

Under  this  new  name,  then,  and  so  captivated  by 
surprise  that  I  could  neither  think  nor  speak,  I  was 
ushered  into  a  spacious  and  airy  cabin,  hung  about 
with  weapons  and  surrounded  by  divans.  The  steward 
asked  for  my  commands,  but  I  was  by  this  time  so 
wearied,  bewildered  and  disturbed  that  I  could  only 
wave  him  to.  leave  me  to  myself  and  sink  upon  a  pile 
of  cushions.  Presently,  by  the  changed  motion  of  the 
ship,  I  knew  her  to  be  under  way;  my  thoughts,  so 
far  from   clarifying,    grew   the    more  distracted  and  con- 


Jl?e   Dypamiter  223 

fused;  dreams  began  to  mingle  and  confound  them, 
and  at  length,  by  insensible  transition,  I  sank  into  a 
dreamless  slumber.  " 

"When  I  awoke  the  day  and  night  had  passed,  and 
it  was  once  more  morning.  The  world  on  which  I  re- 
opened my  eyes  swam  strangely  up  and  down;  the 
jewels  in  the  bag  that  lay  beside  me  chinked  together 
ceaselessly;  the  clock  and  the  barometer  wagged  to  and 
fro  like  pendulums,  and  overhead  seamen  were  singing 
out  at  their  work,  and  coils  of  rope  clattering  and 
thumping  on  the  deck.  Yet  it  was  long  before  I  had 
divined  that  I  was  at  sea:  long  before  I  had  recalled, 
one  after  another,  the  tragical,  mysterious  and  inex- 
plicable events  that  had  brought  me   where  I   was. 

When  I  had  done  so,  I  thrust  the  jewels,  which  I 
was  surprised  to  find  "had  been  respected,  into  the 
bosom  of  my  dress,  and  seeing  a  silver  bell  hard  by 
upon  a  table,  rang  it  loudly.  The  steward  instantly 
appeared;  I  asked  for  food,  and  he  proceeded  to  lay 
the  table,  regarding  me  the  while  with  a  disquieting 
and  pertinacious  scrutiny.  To  relieve  myself  of  my  em- 
barrassment, I  asked  him.  with  as  fair  a  show  of  ease 
as  I  could  muster,  if  it  were  usual  for  yachts  to  carry 
so  numerous  a  crew? 

"Madam,"  said  he,  "I  know  not  who  you  are,  nor 
what  mad  fancy  has  induced  you  to  usurp  a  name  and 
an  appalling  destiny  that  are  not  yours.  I  warn  you 
from   the  soul.     No    sooner   arrived  at   the   island — " 

At  this  moment  he  was  interrupted  by  the  whisk- 
ered officer,  who  had  entered  unperceived  behind  him, 
and  now  laid  a  hand  upon  his  shoulder.  The  sudden 
pallor,    the  deadly   and  sick  fear  that   was   imprinted   on 


224  U/orKs    of   Robert    Couis    Steuerjson 

the  steward's  face,  formed  a  startling  addition  to  his 
words. 

"Parker!"  said  the  officer,  and  pointed  toward  the 
door. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Kentish,"  said  the  steward.  "For  God's 
sake,  Mr.  Kentish!"  and  vanished  with  a  white  face 
from  the    cabin. 

Thereupon  the  officer  bade  me  sit  down,  and  began 
to  help  me,  and  join  in  the  meal.  "I  fill  your  lady- 
ship's glass,"  said  he,  and  handed  me  a  tumbler  of 
neat  rum. 

"Sir,"  cried  I,  "do  you  expect  me  to  drink 
this?" 

He  laughed  heartily.  "Your  ladyship  is  so  much 
changed,"  said  he,  "that  I  no  longer  expect  any  one 
thing  more  than   any   other." 

Immediately  after,  a  white  seaman  entered  the  cabin, 
saluted  both  Mr.  Kentish  and  myself,  and  informed  the 
officer  there  was  a  sail  in  sight,  which  was  bound  to 
pass  us  verj^  close,  and  that  Mr.  Harland  was  in 
doubt   about   the  colors. 

"Being  so  near   the  island?"    asked   Mr.    Kentish. 

"That  was  what  Mr.  Harland  said,  sir,"  returned 
the   sailor,    with   a   scrape. 

"Better  not,  I  think,"  said  Mr.  Kentish.  "My  com- 
pliments to  Mr.  Harland;  and  if  she  seem  a  lively 
boat,  give  her  the  stars  and  stripes;  but  if  she  be 
dull,  and  we  can  easily  outsail  her,  show  John  Dutch- 
man. That  is  always  another  word  for  incivility  at 
sea;  so  we  can  disregard  a  hail  or  a  flag  of  distress, 
without  attracting  notice." 

As  soon  as   the   sailor    had    gone    on    deck,    I   turned 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  225 

to  the  officer  in  wonder.  "Mr.  Kentish,  if  that  be 
your  name,"  said  I,  "are  you  ashamed  of  your  own 
colors?" 

"Your  ladyship  refers  to  the  'Jolly  Roger'?"  he  in- 
quired, with  perfect  gravity;  and  immediately  after, 
went  into  peals  of  laughter.  "Pardon  me,"  said  he; 
"but  here,  for  the  first  time,  I  recognize  your  lady- 
ship's impetuosity."  Nor,  try  as  I  pleased,  could  I 
extract  from  him  any  explanation  of  this  mystery,  but 
only  oily   and   commonplace    evasion. 

"While  we  were  thus  occupied,  the  movement  of  the 
"Nemorosa"  gradually  became  less  violent;  its  speed  at 
the  same  time  diminished;  and  presently  after,  with  a 
sullen  plunge,  the  anchor  was  discharged  into  the  sea. 
Kentish  immediately  rose,  offered  his  arm  and  conducted 
me  on  deck;  where  I  found  we  were  lying  in  a 
roadstead  among  many  low  and  rocky  islets,  hovered 
about  by  an  innumerable  cloud  of  sea-fowl.  Imme- 
diately under  our  board,  a  somewhat  larger  isle  was 
green  with  trees,  set  with  a  few  low  buildings  and 
approached  by  a  pier  of  very  crazy  workmanship;  and 
a  little    inshore    of    us,    a  smaller   vessel    lay   at    anchor. 

I  had  scarce  time  to  glance  to  the  four  quarters, 
ere  a  boat  was  lowered.  I  was  handed  in,  Kentish 
took  his  place  beside  me,  and  we  pulled  briskty  to  the 
pier.  A  crowd  of  villainous,  armed  loiterers,  both  black 
and  white,  looked  on  upon  our  landing;  and  again  the 
word  passed  about  among  the  negroes,  and  again  I 
was  received  with  prostrations  and  the  same  gesture  of 
the  flung-up  hand.  By  this,  what  with  the  appear- 
ance   of    these    men    and    the    lawless,    sea-girt    spot    in 

which    I    found    myself,    my   courage    began    a    little    to 

15-  Vol.  XIV. 


226  U/orl^s   of   Robert    Couis    Steuensoi) 

decline,  and  clinging  to  the  arm  of  Mr.  Kentish,  I 
begged  him  to  tell  me   what  it   meant? 

"Nay,  madam,"  he  returned,  "you  know."  And 
leading  me  smartly  through  the  crowd,  which  con- 
tinued to  follow  at  a  considerable  distance,  and  at 
which  he  still  kept  looking  back,  I  thought,  with  ap- 
prehension, he  brought  me  to  a  low  house  that  stood 
alone  in  an  encumbered  yard,  opened  the  door,  and 
begged   me  to  enter. 

"But  why?"  said  I.  "I  demanded  to  see  Sir 
George." 

"Madam,"  returned  Mr.  Kentish,  looking  suddenly 
as  black  as  thunder,  "to  drop  all  fence,  I  know  neither 
who  nor  what  you  are;  beyond  the  fact  that  you  are 
not  the  person  whose  name  you  have  assumed.  But  be 
what  you  please,  spy,  ghost,  devil  or  most  ill- judging 
jester,  if  you  do  not  immediately  enter  that  house,  I 
will  cut  you  to  the  earth."  And  even  as  he  spoke, 
he  threw  an  uneasy  glance  behind  him  at  the  follow- 
ing crowd  of  blacks. 

I  did  not  wait  to  be  twice  threatened;  I  obeyed 
at  once  and  with  a  palpitating  heart;  and  the  next 
moment  the  door  was  locked  from  outside  and  the 
key  withdrawn.  The  interior  was  long,  low  and  quite 
unfurnished,  but  filled,  almost  from  end  to  end,  with 
sugar-cane,  tar  barrels,  old  tarry  rope,  and  other  incon- 
gruous and  highly  inflammable  material;  and  not  only 
was  the  door  locked,  but  the  solitary  window  barred 
with  iron. 

I  was  by  this  time  so  exceedingly  bewildered  and 
afraid  that  I  would  have  given  years  of  my  life  to  be 
once  more   the   slave  of   Mr.  Caulder.     I   still  stood,  with 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  227 

my  hands  clasped,  the  image  of  despair,  looking  about 
me  on  the  lumber  room  or  raising  my  eyes  to  heaven; 
when  there  appeared  outside  the  window  bars  the  face 
of  a  very  black  negro,  who  signed  to  me  imperiously 
to  draw  near.  I  did  so,  and  he  instantly,  and  with 
every  mark  of  fervor,  addressed  me  a  long  speech  in 
some   unknown   and    barbarous    tongue. 

"I  declare,"  I  cried,  clasping  my  brow,  "I  do  not 
understand   one  syllable." 

"Not?"  he  said  in  Spanish.  "Great,  great,  are  the 
powers  of  Hoodoo!  Her  very  mind  is  changed!  But  O 
chief  priestess,  why  have  you  suffered  yourself  to  be 
shut  into  this  cage?  why  did  you  not  call  your  slaves 
at  once  to  your  defense?  Do  you  not  see  that  all  has 
been  prepared  to  murder  you?  at  a  spark,  this  flimsy 
house  will  go  in  flames;  and  alas!  who  shall  then  be 
the  chief  priestess?  and  what  shall  be  the  profit  of  the 
miracle?" 

"Heavens!"  cried  I,  "can  I  not  see  Sir  George?  I 
must,  I  must,  come  by  speech  of  him.  Oh,  bring  me 
to  Sir  George!"  And,  my  terror  fairly  mastering  my 
courage,  I  fell  upon  my  knees  and  began  to  pray  to 
all  the   saints. 

"Lordy!"  cried  the  negro,  "here  they  come!"  And 
his  black  head  was  instantly  withdrawn  from  the  win- 
dow. 

"I  never  heard  such  nonsense  in  my  life,"  ex- 
claimed  a  voice. 

"Why,  so  we  all  say,  Sir  George,"  replied  the  voice 
of  Mr.  Kentish.  "But  put  yourself  in  our  place.  The 
niggers  were  near  two  to  one.  And  upon  my  word,  if 
you'll   excuse   me,    sir,    considering   the   notion    they   have 


228  U/orKs    of   Robert    Couis    Steueosoi} 

taken  in  their  heads,  I  regard  it  as  precious  fortunate 
for  all  of  us   that  the  mistake    occurred." 

"This  is  no  question  of  fortune,  sir,"  returned  Sir 
George.  "It  is  a  question  of  my  orders,  and  you  may 
take  my  word  for  it,  Kentish,  either  Harlaud,  or  your- 
self, or  Parker — or,  by  George,  all  three  of  you! — shall 
swing  for  this  affair.  These  are  my  sentiments.  Give 
me  the  key  and   be  off." 

Immediately  after,  the  key  turned  in  the  lock;  and 
there  appeared  upon  the  threshold  a  gentleman,  be- 
tween forty  and  fifty,  with  a  very  open  countenance 
and   of   a   stout   and   personable  figure. 

"My  dear  young  lady,"  said  he,  "who  the  devil 
may  you  be?" 

I  told  him  my  story  in  a  rush  of  words.  He  heard 
me,  from  the  first,  with  an  amazement  you  can  scarcely 
picture,  but  when  I  came  to  the  death  of  the  Senora 
Mendizabal   in   the   tornado,  he  fairly  leaped   into  the  air. 

"My  dear  child,"  he  cried,  clasping  me  in  his  arms, 
"excuse  a  man  who  might  be  your  father!  This  is  the 
best  news  I  have  heard  since  I  was  born;  for  that  hag 
of  a  mulatto  was  no  less  a  person  than  my  wife."  He 
sat  down  upon  a  tar- barrel,  as  if  unmanned  by  joy. 
"Dear  me,"  said  he,  "I  declare  this  tempts  me  to  be- 
lieve in  Providence.  And  what,"  he  added,  "can  I  do 
for  you?" 

"Sir  George,"  said  I,  "I  am  already  rich:  all  that 
I  ask  is  your  protection." 

"Understand  one  thing,"  he  said,  with  great  energy: 
"I   will  never  marry." 

"I  had  not  ventured  to  propose  it,"  I  exclaimed, 
unable    to    restrain   my   mirth;    "I   only   seek   to  be  con- 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  229 

veyed  to  England,  the  natural  home  of  the  escaped 
slave." 

"Well,"  returned  Sir  George,  "frankly  I  owe  you 
one  for  this  exhilarating  news;  besides,  your  father  was 
of  use  to  me.  Now,  I  have  made  up  a  small  com- 
petence in  business — a  jewel  mine,  a  sort  of  naval 
agency,  et  cetera,  and  I  am  on  the  point  of  breaking 
up  my  company,  and  retiring  to  my  place  in  Devon- 
shire to  pass  a  plain  old  age,  unmarried.  One  good 
turn  deserves  another:  if  you  swear  to  hold  your  tongue 
about  this  island,  these  little  bonfire  arrangements,  and 
the  whole  episode  of  my  unfortunate  marriage,  why, 
I'll  carry  you   home   aboard   the   'Nemorosa.'  " 

I  eagerly   accepted   his   conditions. 

"One  thing  more,"  said  he.  "My  late  wife  was  some 
sort  of  a  sorceress  among  the  blacks;  and  they  are  all 
persuaded  she  has  come  alive  again  in  your  agreeable 
person.  Now,  you  will  have  the  goodness  to  keep  up 
that  fancy,  if  you  please;  and  to  swear  to  them,  on 
the  authority  of  Hoodoo  or  whatever  his  name  may  be, 
that   I   am   from   this  moment   quite  a  sacred  character." 

"I  swear  it,"  said  I,  "by  my  father's  memory; 
and   that  is   a   vow   that   I    will   never  break." 

"I  have  considerably  better  hold  on  you  than  any 
oath,"  returned  Sir  George,  with  a  chuckle;  "for  you 
are  not  only  an  escaped  slave,  but  have,  by  your  own 
account,    a  considerable   amount   of  stolen   property." 

I  was  struck  dumb;  I  saw  it  was  too  true;  in  a 
glance,  1  recognized  that  these  jewels  were  no  longer 
mine;  with  similar  quickness,  I  decided  they  should  be 
restored,  ay,  if  it  cost  me  the  liberty  that  I  had  just 
regained.     Forgetful   of  all  else,  forgetful   of   Sir   George, 


230  U/orKs   of  Robert   Couis   Steueosor; 

who  sat  and  watched  me  with  a  smile,  I  drew  out 
Mr.  Caulder's  pocketbook  and  turned  to  the  page  on 
which  the  dying  man  had  scrawled  his  testament.  How 
shall  I  describe  the  agony  of  happiness  and  remorse 
with  which  I  read  it!  for  my  victim  had  not  only  set 
me  free,    but  bequeathed  to  me  the   bag  of  jewels. 

My  plain  tale  draws  toward  a  close.  Sir  George  and 
I,  in  my  character  of  his  rejuvenated  wife,  displayed 
ourselves  arm-in-arm  among  the  negroes,  and  were 
cheered  and  followed  to  the  place  of  embarkation.  There, 
Sir  George,  turning  about,  made  a  speech  to  his  old 
companions,  in  which  he  thanked  and  bade  them  fare- 
well with  a  very  manly  spirit;  and  toward  the  end  of 
which,  he  fell  on  some  expressions  which  I  still  remem- 
ber. "If  any  of  you  gentry  lose  your  money,"  he  said, 
"take  care  you  do  not  come  to  me;  for  in  the  first 
place  I  shall  do  my  best  to  have  you  murdered;  and 
if  that  fails,  I  hand  you  over  to  the  law.  Blackmail 
won't  do  for  me.  I'll  rather  risk  all  upon  a  cast,  than 
be  pulled  to  pieces  by  degrees.  I'll  rather  be  found  out 
and  hang,  than  give  a  doit  to  one  man-jack  of  you." 
That  same  night  we  got  under  way  and  crossed  to  the 
port  of  New  Orleans,  whence,  as  a  sacred  trust,  I  sent 
the  pocketbook  to  Mr.  Caulder's  son.  In  a  week's  time, 
the  men  were  all  paid  off;  new  hands  were  shipped; 
and  the  "Nemorosa"  weighed  her  anchor  for  old  England. 

A  more  delightful  voyage  it  were  hard  to  fancy. 
Sir  George,  of  course,  was  not  a  conscientious  man; 
but  he  had  an  unaffected  gayety  of  character  that 
naturally  endeared  him  to  the  young;  and  it  was  in- 
teresting to  hear  him  lay  out  his  projects  for  the 
future,     when     he    should    be    returned     to    parliament, 


Jbe   Dynamiter  231 

and  place  at  the  service  of  the  nation  his  experience 
of  marine  affairs.  I  asked  him  if  his  notion  of  piracy 
upon  a  private  yacht  were  not  original.  But  he  told 
me,  no.  "A  yacht,  Miss  Valdevia,"  he  observed,  "is 
a  chartered  nuisance.  Who  smuggles?  "Who  robs  the 
salmon  rivers  of  the  west  of  Scotland?  Who  cruelly 
beats  the  keepers  if  they  dare  to  intervene?  The  crews 
and  the  proprietors  of  yachts.  All  I  have  done  is  to 
extend  the  line  a  trifle;  and  if  you  ask  me  for  my 
unbiased  opinion,  I  do  not  suppose  that  I  am  in  the 
least  alone." 

In  short  we  were  the  best  of  friends,  and  lived  like 
father  and  daughter;  though  I  still  withheld  from  him, 
of  course,  that  respect  which  is  only  due  to  moral  ex- 
cellence. 

We  were  still  some  days'  sail  from  England,  when 
Sir  George  obtained,  from  an  outward  bound  ship,  a 
packet  of  newspapers;  and  from  that  fatal  hour  my 
misfortunes  recommenced.  He  sat,  the  same  evening,  in 
the  cabin,  reading  the  news,  and  making  savory  com- 
ments on  the  decline  of  Eugland  and  the  poor  condition 
of  the  navy;  when  I  suddenly  observed  him  to  change 
countenance. 

"Hullo!"  said  he,  "this  is  bad;  this  is  deuced  bad, 
Miss  Valdevia.  You  would  not  listen  to  sound  sense, 
you  would  send  that  pocketbook  to  that  man  Caulder's 
son." 

"Sir  George,"   said    I,    "it  was  my  duty." 

"You  are  prettily  paid  for  it,  at  least,"  says  he; 
"and  much  as  I  regret  it,  I,  for  one,  am  done  with 
you.     This  fellow  Caulder  demands  your  extradition." 

"But  a  slave,"  I   returned,  "is  safe  in   England," 


232  U/orKj   of   Robert    Couis    Stevenson 

"Yes,  by  George!"  replied  the  baronet;  "but  it's 
not  a  slave,  Miss  Valdevia,  it's  a  thief  that  he  demands. 
He  has  quietly  destroyed  the  will;  and  now  accuses 
you  of  robbing  your  father's  bankrupt  estate  of  jewels 
to  the  value  of  a  hundred   thousand   pounds." 

I  was  so  much  overcome  by  indignation  at  this 
hateful  charge  and  concern  for  my  unhappy  fate  that 
the   genial   baronet   made  haste   to  put  me   more  at  ease. 

"Do  not  be  cast  down,"  said  he.  "Of  course,  I 
wash  my  hands  of  you,  myself.  A  man  in  my  position 
— baronet,  old  family,  and  all  that — cannot  possibly  be 
too  particular  about  the  company  he  keeps.  But  I  am 
a  deuced  good-humored  old  boy,  let  me  tell  you,  when 
not  ruffled,  an^  I  will  do  the  best  I  can  to  put  you 
right.  I  will  lend  you  a  trifle  of  ready  money,  give 
you  the  address  of  an  excellent  lawyer  in  London,  and 
find   a   way  to  set   you  on   shore  unsuspected." 

He  was  in  every  particular  as  good  as  his  word. 
Four  days  later,  the  "Nemorosa"  sounded  her  way, 
under  the  cloak  of  a  dark  night,  into  a  certain  haven 
of  the  coast  of  England;  and  a  boat,  rowing  with 
muffled  oars,  set  me  ashore  upon  the  beach  within  a 
stone's  throw  of  a  railway  station.  Thither,  guided  by 
Sir  George's  directions,  I  groped  a  devious  way;  and 
finding  a  bench  upon  the  platform,  sat  me  down, 
wrapped  in  a  man's  fur  great-coat,  to  await  the  coming 
of  the  day.  It  was  still  dark  when  a  light  was  struck 
behind  one  of  the  windows  of  the  building;  nor  had 
the  east  begun  to  kindle  to  the  warmer  colors  of  the 
dawn,  before  a  porter,  carrying  a  lantern,  issued  from 
the  door  and  found  himself  face  to  face  with  the  un- 
fortunate Teresa.     He  looked  all  about  him;    in  the  gray 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  233 

twilight  of  the  dawn,  the  haven  was  seen  to  lie  deserted, 
and   the  yacht  had  long  since  disappeared. 

"Who  are  you?"    he  cried. 

"I  am   a  traveler,"   said   I. 

"And   where   do  you  come  from?"    he  asked. 

"I  am  going  by  the  first  train  to  London,"  I  re- 
plied. 

In  such  manner,  like  a  ghost  or  a  new  creation,  was 
Teresa  with  her  bag  of  jewels  landed  on  the  shores  of 
England;  in  this  silent  fashion,  without  history  or 
name,  she  took  her  place  among  the  millions  of  a 
new   country. 

Since  then,  I  have  lived  by  the  expedients  of  my 
lawyer,  lying  concealed  in  quiet  lodgings,  dogged  by 
the  spies  of  Cuba,  and  not  knowing  at  what  hour  my 
liberty   and  honor  may  be  lost. 


THE    BROWN    BOX   {concluded) 

The  effect  of  this  tale  on  the  mind  of  Harry  Des- 
borough  was  instant  and  convincing.  The  Fair  Cuban 
had  been  already  the  loveliest,  she  now  became  in  his 
eyes  the  most  romantic,  the  most  innocent  and  the 
most  unhappy  of  her  sex.  He  was  bereft  of  words  to 
utter  what  he  felt:  what  pity,  what  admiration,  what 
youthful  envy  of  a  career  so  vivid  and  adventurous. 
"Oh,  madam!"  he  began;  and  finding  no  language 
adequate  to  that  apostrophe,  caught  up  her  hand  and 
wrung  ifc  in  his  own.  "Count  upon  me,"  he  added, 
with  bewildered   fervor;    and    getting    somehow  or    other 


234  UL/orKs  of  Robert  Couis  Stevenson 

out  of  the  apartment  and  from  tho  circle  of  that  radi 
ant  sorceress,  he  found  himself  in  the  strange  out-of- 
doors,  beholding  dull  houses,  wondering  at  dull  passers- 
by,  a  fallen  angel.  She  had  smiled  upon  him  as  he 
left,  and  with  how  significant,  how  beautiful  a  smile! 
The  memory  lingered  in  his  heart;  and  when  he  found 
his  way  to  a  certain  restaurant  where  music  was  per- 
formed, flutes  (as  it  were  of  Paradise)  accompanied  his 
meal.  The  strings  went  to  the  melody  of  that  parting 
smile;  they  paraphrased  and  glossed  it  in  the  sense 
that  he  desired;  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  plain  and 
somewhat  dreary  life,  he  perceived  himself  to  have  a 
taste  for   music. 

The  next  day,  and  the  next,  his  meditations  moved 
to  that  delectable  air.  Now  he  saw  her  and  was  fav- 
ored; now  saw  her  not  at  all;  now  saw  her  and  was 
put  by.  The  fall  of  her  foot  upon  the  stair  entranced 
him;  the  books  that  he  sought  out  and  read  were 
books  on  Cuba  and  spoke  of  her  indirectly;  nay,  and 
in  the  very  landlady's  parlor,  he  found  one  that  told 
of  precisely  such  a  hurricane,  and,  down  to  the  small- 
est detail,  confirmed  (had  confirmation  been  required)  the 
truth  of  her  recital.  Presently  he  began  to  fall  into 
that  prettiest  mood  of  a  young  love,  in  which  the  lover 
scorns  himself  for  his  presumption.  Who  was  he,  the 
dull  one,  the  commonplace  unemployed,  the  man  with- 
out adventure,  the  impure,  the  untruthful,  to  aspire  to 
such  a  creature  made  of  fire  and  air,  and  hallowed 
and  adorned  by  such  incomparable  passages  of  life? 
What  should  he  do  to  be  more  worthy?  By  what  de- 
votion call  down  the  notice  of  these  eyes  to  so  terrene 
a    being  as  himself? 


J\)e   Dynamiter  235 

He  betook  himself,  thereupon,  to  the  rural  privacy  of 
the  square,  where,  being  a  lad  of  a  kind  heart,  he  had 
made  himself  a  circle  of  acquaintances  among  its  shy 
frequenters,  the  half-domestic  cats  and  the  visitors  that 
hung  before  the  windows  of  the  Children's  Hospital. 
There  he  walked,  considering  the  depth  of  his  demerit 
and  the  height  of  the  adored  one's  super-excellence; 
now  lighting  upon  earth  to  say  a  pleasant  word  to  the 
brother  of  some  infant  invalid;  now,  with  a  great 
heave  of  breath,  remembering  the  queen  of  women,  and 
the   sunshine  of  his  life. 

What  was  he  to  do?  Teresa,  he  had  observed,  was 
in  the  habit  of  leaving  the  house  toward  afternoon;  she 
might,  perchance,  run  danger  from  some  Cuban  emis- 
sary, when  the  presence  of  a  friend  might  turn  the 
balance  in  her  favor:  how,  then,  if  he  should  follow 
her?  To  offer  his  company  would  seem  like  an  intru- 
sion; to  dog  her  openly  were  a  manifest  impertinence; 
he  saw  himself  reduced  to  a  more  stealthy  part,  which, 
though  in  some  ways  distasteful  to  his  mind,  he  did 
not  doubt  that  he  could  practice  with  the  skill  of  a 
detective. 

The  next  day  he  proceeded  to  put  his  plan  in 
action.  At  the  corner  of  Tottenham  Court  Road,  how- 
ever, the  Senorita  suddenly  turned  back,  and  met  him 
face   to   face,   with   every  mark  of  pleasure   and   surprise. 

"Ah,  Senor,  I  am  sometimes  fortunate!"  she  cried. 
'"I  was  looking  for  a  messenger;"  and  with  the  sweet- 
est of  smiles  she  dispatched  him  to  the  East  of  London, 
to  an  address  which  he  was  unable  to  find.  This  was 
a  bitter  pill  to  the  knight-errant;  but  when  he  returned 
at    night,    worn    out    with    fruitless    wandering    and    dis- 


236  U/orKs  of  Robert  Couis  Steuenson 

mayed  by  his  fiasco,  the  lady  received  him  with  a 
friendly  gayety,  protesting  that  all  was  for  the  best, 
since  she  had  changed  her  mind  and  long  since  re- 
pented  of   her   message. 

Next  day  he  resumed  his  labors,  glowing  with  pity 
and  courage,  and  determined  to  protect  Teresa  with 
his  life.  But  a  painful  shock  awaited  him.  In  the 
narrow  and  silent  Hanway  Street,  she  turned  suddenly 
about  and  addressed  him  with  a  manner  and  a  light 
in  her  eyes  that  were  new  to  the  young  man's  expe- 
rience. 

"Do  I  understand  that  you  follow  me,  Senor?"  she 
cried.  "Are  these  the  manners  of  the  English  gentle- 
man?" 

Harry  confounded  himself  in  the  most  abject  apolo- 
gies and  prayers  to  be  forgiven,  vowed  to  offend  no 
more,  and  was  at  length  dismissed,  crestfallen  and 
heavy  of  heart.  The  check  was  final;  he  gave  up 
that  road  to  service;  and  began  once  more  to  hang 
about  the  square  or  on  the  terrace,  filled  with  remorse 
and  love,  admirable  and  idiotic,  a  fit  object  for  the 
scorn  and  envy  of  older  men.  In  these  idle  hours, 
while  he  was  courting  fortune  for  a  sight  of  the  be- 
loved, it  fell  out  naturally  that  he  should  observe  the 
manners  and  appearance  of  such  as  came  about  the 
house.  One  person  alone  was  the  occasional  visitor  of 
the  young  lady;  a  man  of  considerable  stature  and 
distinguished  only  by  the  doubtful  ornament  of  a  chin- 
beard  in  the  style  of  an  American  deacon.  Something 
in  his  appearance  grated  upon  Harry;  this  distaste 
grew  upon  him  in  the  course  of  days;  and  when  at 
length    he    mustered     courage     to    inquire    of     the     Fair 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  237 

Cuban  who  this  was,  he  was  yet  more  dismayed  by 
her  reply. 

"That  gentleman,"  said  she,  a  smile  struggling  to 
her  face,  "that  gentleman,  I  will  not  attempt  to  con- 
ceal from  you,  desires  my  hand  in  marriage,  and 
presses  me  with  the  most  respectful  ardor.  Alas,  what 
am  I  to  say?  I,  the  forlorn  Teresa,  how  shall  I  re- 
fuse or  accept  such   protestations?" 

Harry  feared  to  say  more;  a  horrid  pang  of  jeal- 
ousy transfixed  him;  and  he  had  scarce  the  strength 
of  mind  to  take  his  leave  with  decency.  In  the  soli- 
tude of  his  own  chamber,  he  gave  way  to  every  mani- 
festation of  despair.  He  passionately  adored  the  Seno- 
rita;  but  it  was  not  only  the  thought  of  her  possible 
union  with  another  that  distressed  his  soul,  it  was  the 
indefeasible  conviction  that  her  suitor  was  unworthy. 
To  a  duke,  a  bishop,  a  victorious  general,  or  any  man 
adorned  with  obvious  qualities,  he  had  resigned  her 
with  .a  sort  of  bitter  joy;  he  saw  himself  follow  the 
wedding  party  from  a  great  way  off;  he  saw  himself 
return  to  the  poor  house,  then  robbed  of  its  jewel; 
and  while  he  could  have  wept  for  his  despair,  he  felt 
he  could  support  it  nobly.  But  this  affair  looked  other- 
wise. The  man  was  patently  no  gentleman;  he  had  a 
startled,  skulking,  guilty  bearing;  his  nails  were  black, 
his  eyes  evasive;  his  love  perhaps  was  a  pretext;  he 
was,  perhaps,  under  this  deep  disguise,  a  Cuban  emis- 
sary! Harry  swore  that  he  would  satisfy  these  doubts; 
and  the  next  evening,  about  the  hour  of  the  usual 
visit,  he  posted  himself  at  a  spot  whence  his  eye  com- 
manded  the  three  issues  of  the   square. 

Presently  after,    a  four-wheeler   rumbled   to   the  door; 


238  U/orl^s    of   Robert    Couis    Stevenson 

and  the  man  with  the  chin-beard  alighted,  paid  off  the 
cabman,  and  was  seen  by  Harry  "to  enter  the  house 
with  a  brown  box  hoisted  on  his  back.  Half  an  hour 
later,  he  came  forth  again  without  the  box,  and  struck 
eastward  at  a  rapid  walk;  and  Desborough,  with  the 
same  skill  and  caution  that  he  had  displayed  in  fol- 
lowing Teresa,  proceeded  to  dog  the  steps  of  her  ad- 
mirer. The  man  began  to  loiter,  studying  with  appar- 
ent interest  the  wares  of  the  small  fruiterer  or  tobac- 
conist; twice  he  returned  hurriedly  upon  his  former 
course;  and  then,  as  though  he  had  suddenly  con- 
quered a  moment's  hesitation,  once  more  set  forth  with 
resolute  and  swift  steps  in  the  direction  of  Lincoln's 
Inn.  At  length,  in  a  deserted  by-street,  he  turned; 
and  coming  up  to  Harry  with  a  countenance  which 
seemed  to  have  become  older  and  whiter,  inquired  with 
some  severity  of  speech  if  he  had  not  had  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  the  gentleman  before. 

"You  have,  sir,"  said  Harry,  somewhat  abashed, 
but  with  a  good  show  of  stoutness;  "and  I  will  not 
deny  that  I  was  following  you  on  purpose.  Doubtless," 
he  added,  for  he  supposed  that  all  men's  minds  must 
still  be  running  on  Teresa,  "you  can  divine  my  rea- 
son." 

At  these  words,  the  man  with  the  chin-beard  was 
seized  with  a  palsied  tremor.  He  seemed,  for  some  sec- 
onds, to  seek  the  utterance  which  his  fear  denied  him; 
and  then  whipping  sharply  about,  he  took  to  his  heels 
at  the   most  furious  speed  of  running. 

Harry  was  at  first  so  taken  aback  that  he  neglected 
to  pursue;  and  by  the  time  he  had  recovered  his  wits, 
his  best  expedition  was   only  rewarded  by  a  glimpse  of 


X*?e    Dynamiter  239 

the  man  with  the  chin-beard  mounting  into  a  hansom, 
which  immediately  after  disappeared  into  the  moving 
crowds   of  Holborn. 

Puzzled  and  dismayed  by  this  unusual  behavior, 
Harry  returned  to  the  house  in  Queen  Square,  and 
ventured  for  the  first  time  to  knock  at  the  fair  Cuban's 
door.  She  bade  him  enter,  and  he  found  her  kneeling 
with  rather  a  disconsolate  air  beside  a  brown  wooden 
trunk. 

"Senorita,"  he  broke  out,  "I  doubt  whether  that 
man's  character  is  what  he  wishes  you  to  believe.  His 
manner,  when  he  found,  and  indeed  when  I  admitted 
that  I  was  following  him,  was  not  the  manner  of  an 
honest   man." 

"Oh!"  she  cried,  throwing  up  her  hands  as  in  des- 
peration, "Don  Quixote,  Don  Quixote,  have  you  again 
been  tilting  against  windmills?"  And  then,  with  a 
laugh,  "Poor  soul!"  she  added,  "how  you  must  have 
terrified  him!  For  know  that  the  Cuban  authorities  are 
here,  and  your  poor  Teresa  may  soon  be  hunted  down. 
Even  yon  humble  clerk  from  my  solicitor's  office  may 
find  himself   at  any  moment   the  quarry  of  armed  spies.*' 

"A  humble  clerk!"  cried  Harry,  "why  you  told 
me  yourself   that   he   wished   to   marry  you!" 

"I  thought  you  English  like  what  you  call  a  joke," 
replied  the  lady,  calmly.  "As  a  matter  of  fact  he  is 
my  lawyer's  clerk,  and  has  been  here  to-night  charged 
with  disastrous  news.  I  am  in  sore  straits,  Senor 
Harry.     Will   you   help   me?" 

At  this  most  welcome  word,  the  young  man's 
heart  exulted;  and  in  the  hope,  pride  and  self-esteem 
that   kindled   with    the   very   thought   of    service,    he  for* 


240  U/or^s    of   Robert    Couis   Steveosoo 

got  to  dwell  upon  the  lady's  jest.  "Can  you  ask?"  he 
cried.  "What  is  there  that  I  can  do?  Only  tell  me 
that." 

"With  signs  of  an  emotion  that  was  certainly  un- 
feigned, the  fair  Cuban  laid  her  hand  upon  the  box. 
"This  box,"  she  said,  "contains  my  jewels,  papers  and 
clothes;  all,  in  a  word,  that  still  connects  me  with 
Cuba  and  my  dreadful  past.  They  must  now  be  smug- 
gled out  of  England;  or,  by  the  opinion  of  my  lawyer, 
I  am  lost  beyond  remedy.  To-morrow,  on  board  the 
Irish  packet,  a  sure  hand  awaits  the  box;  the  problem 
still  unsolved,  is  to  find  some  one  to  carry  it  as  far 
as  Holyhead,  to  see  it  placed  on  board  the  steamer, 
and  instantly  return  to  town.  "Will  you  be  he?  Will 
you  leave  to-morrow  by  the  first  train,  punctually  obey 
orders,  bear  still  in  mind  that  you  are  surrounded  by 
Cuban  spies;  and  without  so  much  as  a  look  behind 
you,  or  a  single  movement  to  betray  your  interest, 
leave  the  box  where  you  have  put  it  and  come  straight 
on  shore?    "Will  you  do  this,  and  so  save  your  friend?" 

"I   do  not   clearly   understand  .    .    ."   began   Harry. 

"No  more  do  I,"  replied  the  Cuban.  "It  is  not 
necessary  that  we  should,  so  long  as  we  obey  the 
lawyer's   orders." 

"Senorita,"  returned  Harry,  gravely,  "I  fhink  this, 
of  course,  a  very  little  thing  to  do  for  you,  when  I 
would  willingly  do  all.  But  suffer  me  to  say  one 
word.  If  London  is  unsafe  for  your  treasures,  it  can- 
not long  be  safe  for  you;  and  indeed,  if  I  at  all  fathom 
the  plan  of  your  solicitor,  I  fear  I  may  find  you  al- 
ready fled  on  my  return.  I  am  not  considered  clever, 
and    can    only  speak    out    plainly  what  is  in  my  heart: 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  241 

that  I  love  you,  and  that  I  cannot  bear  to  lose  all 
knowledge  of  you.  I  hope  no  more  than  to  be  your 
servant;  I  ask  no  more  than  just  that  I  shall  hear  of 
you.     Oh,    promise    me   so  much!" 

"You  shall,"  she  said,  after  a  pause.  "I  promise 
you,  you  shall."  But  though  she  spoke  with  earnest- 
ness, the  marks  of  great  embarrassment  and  a  strong 
conflict  of  emotions   appeared   upon   her  face. 

"I  wish  to  tell  you,"  resumed  Desborough,  "in  case 
of  accidents.    ..." 

"Accidents!"    she  cried;    "why  do  you   say   that?" 

"I  do  not  know,"  said  he;  "you  may  be  gone  be- 
fore my  return,  and  we  may  not  meet  again  for  long. 
And  so  I  wished  you  to  know  this:  That  since  the 
day  you  gave  me  the  cigarette,  you  have  never  once, 
not  once,  been  absent  from  my  mind;  and  if  it  will 
in  any  way  serve  you,  you  may  crumple  me  up  like 
that  piece  of  paper,  and  throw  me  on  the  fire.  I 
would  love   to  die  for  you." 

"Go!"  she  said.  "Go  now  at  once!  My  brain  is 
in  a  whirl.  I  scarce  know  what  we  are  talking.  Go; 
and   good-night;    and,   oh,    may  you   come  safe!" 

Once   back  in   his  own    room   a  fearful  joy  possessed 

the    young    man's    mind;     and   as  he   recalled    her    face 

struck    suddenly   white   and   the  broken   utterance   of  her 

last  words,  his   heart  at  once   exulted   and   misgave  him. 

Love  had   indeed  looked   upon   him  with   a  tragic   mask; 

and    yet  what    mattered,    since    at    least    it   was    love — 

since  at  least  she  was   commoved   at   their   division?     He 

got    to    bed    with     these    party-colored    thoughts;     passed 

from    one    dream    to    another    all    night   long,    the   white 

face  of  Teresa  still   haunting  him,  wrung  with  unspoken 

16-  Vol.  XIV. 


242  U/orl^s   of   Robert   Couis    Steueoson 

thoughts;  and  in  the  gray  of  the  dawn,  leaped  sud- 
denly out  of  bed,  in  a  kind  of  horror.  It  was  already 
time  for  him  to  rise.  He  dressed,  made  his  breakfast 
on  cold  food  that  had  been  laid  for  him  the  night  be- 
fore; and  went  down  to  the  room  of  his  idol  for 
the  box.  The  door  was  open;  a  strange  disorder 
reigned  within;  the  furniture  all  pushed  aside,  and 
the  center  of  the  room  left  bare  of  impediment,  as 
though  for  the  pacing  of  a  creature  with  a  tortured 
miad.  There  lay  the  box,  however,  and  upon  the  lid 
a  paper  with  these  words:  "Harry,  I  hope  to  be  back 
before   you   go.     Teresa/' 

He  sat  down  to  wait,  laying  his  watch  before  him 
on  the  table.  She  had  called  him  Harry:  that  should 
be  enough,  he  thought,  to  fill  the  day  with  sunshine; 
and  yet  somehow  the  sight  of  that  disordered  room  still 
poisoned  his  enjoyment.  The  door  of  the  bedchamber 
stood  gaping  open;  and  though  he  turned  aside  his  eyes 
as  from  a  sacrilege,  he  could  not  but  observe  the  bed 
had  not  been  slept  in.  He  was  still  pondering  what 
this  should  mean,  still  trying  to  convince  himself  that 
all  was  well,  when  the  moving  needle  of  his  watch  sum- 
moned him  to  set  forth  without  delay.  He  was  before 
all  things  a  man  of  his  word;  ran  round  to  Southampton 
Row  to  fetch  a  cab;  and  taking  the  box  on  the  front 
seat,    drove   off   toward   the  terminus. 

The  streets  were  scarcely  awake;  there  was  little  to 
amuse  the  eye;  and  the  young  man's  attention  centered 
on  the  dumb  companion  of  his  drive.  A  card  was 
nailed  upon  one  side,  bearing  the  superscription:  "Miss 
Doolan,  passenger  to  Dublin.  Glass.  "With  care."  He 
thought  with  a    sentimental    shock  that  the  fair  idol  of 


J\)e   Dynamiter  MS 

his  heart  was  perhaps  driven  to  adopt  the  name  of 
Doolan;  and  as  he  still  studied  the  card,  he  was  aware 
of  a  deadly,  black  depression  settling  steadily  upon  his 
spirits.  It  was  in  vain  for  him  to  contend  against  the 
tide;  in  vain  that  he  shook  himself  or  tried  to  whistle: 
the  sense  of  some  impending  blow  was  not  to  be  averted. 
He  looked  out;  in  the  long,  empty  streets,  the  cab 
pursued  its  way  without  a  trace  of  any  follower.  He 
gave  ear;  and  over  and  above  the  jolting  of  the  wheels 
upon  the  road,  he  was  conscious  of  a  certain  regular 
and  quiet  sound  that  seemed  to  issue  from  the  box. 
He  put  his  ear  to  the  cover;  at  one  moment,  he  seemed 
to  perceive  a  delicate  ticking:  the  next,  the  sound  was 
gone,  nor  could  his  closest  hearkening  recapture  it.  He 
laughed  at  himself;  but  still  the  gloom  continued;  and 
it  was  with  more  than  the  common  relief  of  an  arrival 
that  he  leaped  from   the  cab  before  the  station. 

Probably  enough  on  purpose  Teresa  had  named  an 
hour  some  thirty  minutes  earlier  than  needful;  and 
when  Harry  had  given  the  box  into  the  charge  of  a 
porter,  who  set  it  on  a  truck,  he  proceeded  briskly  to 
pace  the  platform.  Presently  the  bookstall  opened;  and 
the  young  man  was  looking  at  the  books  when  he  was 
seized  by  the  arm.  He  turned,  and,  though  she  was 
closely  veiled,    at  once  recognized  the   Fair  Cuban. 

"Where  is  it?"  she  asked;  and  the  sound  of  her 
voice   surprised  him. 

"It?"   he  said.     "What?" 

"The  box.  Have  it  put  on  a  cab  instantly.  I  am 
in  fearful  haste." 

He  hurried  to  obey,  marveling  at  these  changes  but 
not    daring    to    trouble    her    with    questions;    and    when 


244  U/orK5   of   Robert    Couij    Steuer?5on 

the  cab  had  been  brought  round,  and  the  box  mounted 
on  the  front,  she  passed  a  little  way  off  upon  the  pave- 
ment and   beckoned   him   to   follow. 

"Now,"  said  she,  still  in  those  mechanical  and  hushed 
tones  that  had  at  first  affected  him,  "you  must  go  on 
to  Holyhead  alone;  go  on  board  the  steamer;  and  if  you 
see  a  man  in  tartan  trousers  and  a  pink  scarf,  say  to 
him  that  all  has  been  put  off:  jf  not,"  she  added,  with 
a   sobbing    sigh,    "it   does   not   matter.     So,    good-by." 

"Teresa,"  said  Harry,  "get  into  your  cab,  and  I 
will  go  along  with  you.  You  are  in  some  distress, 
perhaps  some  danger;  and  till  I  know  the  whole,  not 
even  you  can   make   me   leave    you." 

"You  will  not?"  she  asked.  "Oh,  Harry,  it  were 
better." 

"I   will   not,"    said   Harry,    stoutly. 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  through  her  veil; 
took  his  hand  suddenly  and  sharply,  but  more  as  if  in 
fear  than  tenderness;  and  still  holding  him,  walked  to 
the  cab-door. 

"Where   are  we   to   drive?"   asked   Harry. 

"Home,  quickly,"  she  answered;  "double  fare!" 
And  as  soon  as  they  had  both  mounted  to  their  places, 
the   vehicle   crazily   trundled   from   the   station. 

Teresa  leaned  back  in  a  corner.  The  whole  way 
Harry  could  perceive  her  tears  to  flow  under  her  veil; 
but  she  vouchsafed  no  explanation.  At  the  door  of  the 
house  in  Queen  Square  both  alighted;  and  the  cabman 
lowered  the  box,  which  Harry,  glad  to  display  his 
strength,    received   upon   his   shoulders. 

"Let  the  man  take  it,"  she  whispered.  "Let  the 
man   take  it." 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  245 

"I  will  do  no  such  thing,"  said  Harry  cheerfully; 
and  having  paid  the  fare,  he  followed  Teresa  through 
the  door  which  she  had  opened  with  her  key.  The 
landlady  and  maid  were  gone  upon  their  morning  er- 
rands; the  house  was  empty  and  still;  and  as  the 
rattling  of  the  cab  died  away  down  Gloucester  Street, 
and  Harry  continued  to  ascend  the  stair  with  his  bur- 
den, he  heard  close  against  his  shoulders  the  same  faint 
and  muffled  ticking  as  before.  The  lady,  still  preceding 
him,  opened  the  door  of  her  room,  and  helped  him  to 
lower  the  box   tenderly  in   the   corner  by  the   window. 

"And   now,"   said   Harry,    "what  is   wrong?" 

"You  will  not  go  away?"  she  cried,  with  a  sudden 
break  in  her  voice  and  beating  her  hands  together  in  the 
very  agony  of  impatience.  "Oh!  Harry,  Harry,  go  away! 
Oh!    go,  and  leave  me  to  the  fate  that  I  deserve!" 

"The  fate?"   repeated  Harry.     "What  is   this?" 

"No  fate,"  she  resumed.  "I  do  not  know  what  I 
am  saying.  But  I  wish  to  be  alone.  You  may  come 
back  this  evening,  Harry;  come  again  when  you  like; 
but  leave  me  now,  only  leave  me  now!"  And  then 
suddenly,  "I  have  an  errand,"  she  exclaimed;  "you 
cannot  refuse  me   that!" 

"No,"  replied  Harry,  "you  have  no  errand.  You 
are  in  grief  or  danger.  Lift  your  veil  and  tell  me 
what   it   is." 

"Then,"  she  said,  with  a  sudden  composure,  "you 
leave  but  one  course  open  to  me."  And  raising  the 
veil,  she  showed  him  a  countenance  from  which  every 
trace  of  color  had  fled,  eyes  marred  with  weeping,  and 
a  brow  on  which  resolve  had  conquered  fear.  "Harry," 
she  began,    "I  am  not  what   I  seem." 


246  U/or^s  of  Robert  Couis  Stevenson 

"You  have  told  me  that  before,"  said  Harry, 
"several  times." 

"Oh!  Harry,  Harry,"  she  cried,  "how  you  shame 
me!  But  this  is  the  God's  truth.  I  am  a  dangerous 
and  wicked  girl.  My  name  is  Clara  Luxmore.  I 
was  never  nearer  Cuba  than  Penzance.  From  first  to 
last  I  have  cheated  and  played  with  you.  And  what 
I  am  I  dare  not  even  name  to  you  in  words.  In- 
deed, until  to-day,  until  the  sleepless  watches  of  last 
night,  I  never  grasped  the  depth  and  foulness  of  my 
guilt." 

The  young  man  looked  upon  her  aghast.  Then  a 
generous  current  poured  along  his  veins.  "That  is  all 
one,"  he  said.  "If  you  be  all  you  say,  you  have  the 
greater  need  of  me." 

"Is  it  possible,"  she  exclaimed,  "that  I  have 
schemed  in  vain?  And  will  nothing  drive  you  from 
this  house  of   death?" 

"Of  death?"    he   echoed. 

"Death!"  she  cried;  "death!  In  that  box  that  you 
have  dragged  about  London  and  carried  on  your  de- 
fenseless shoulders,  sleeps,  at  the  trigger's  mercy,  the 
destroying  energies   of   dynamite." 

"My  God!"    cried   Harry. 

"Ah!"  she  continued  wildly,  "will  you  flee  now? 
At  any  moment  you  may  hear  the  click  that  sounds 
the  ruin  of  this  building.  I  was  sure  M'Guire  was 
wrong;  this  morning,  before  day,  I  flew  to  Zero;  he 
confirmed  my  fears;  I  beheld  you,  my  beloved  Harry, 
fall  a  victim  to  my  own  contrivances.  I  knew  then  I 
loved  you — Harry,  will  you  go  now?  Will  you  not 
spare  me  this  unwilling  crime?" 


Jtye   Dynamiter  247 

Harry  remained  speechless,  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
box:    at  last  he  turned  to   her. 

"Is    it,"  he    asked   hoarsely,    "an  infernal   machine?" 

Her  lips  formed  the  word  "yes;"  which  her  voice 
refused  to  utter. 

With  fearful  curiosity,  he  drew  near  and  bent  above 
the  box:  in  that  still  chamber,  the  ticking  was  dis- 
tinctly audible;  and  at  the  measured  sound,  the  blood 
flowed  back   upon   his  heart. 

"For  whom?"    he  asked. 

"What  matters  it?"  she  cried,  seizing  him  by  the  arm. 
"If  you  may  still  be  saved,  what  matters  questions?" 

"God  in  heaven!"  cried  Harry.  "And  the  Children's 
Hospital!  At  whatever  cost,  this  damned  contrivance 
must  be  stopped!" 

"It  cannot,"  she  gasped.  "The  power  of  man  can- 
not avert  the  blow.  But  you,  Harry — you,  my  beloved 
— you   may   still—" 

And  then  from  the  box  that  lay  so  quietly  in  the 
corner,  a  sudden  catch  was  audible,  like  the  catch  of  a 
clock  before  it  strikes  the  hour.  For  one  second,  the 
two  stared  at  each  other  with  lifted  brows  and  stony 
eyes.  Then  Harry,  throwing  one  arm  over  his  face, 
with  the  other  clutched  the  girl  to  his  breast  and 
staggered   against  the  wall. 

A  dull  and  startling  thud  resounded  through  the 
room;  their  eyes  blinked  against  the  coming  horror; 
and  still  clinging  together  like  drowning  people,  they 
fell  to  the  floor.  Then  followed  a  prolonged  and  stri- 
dent hissing  as  from  the  indignant  pit;  an  offensive 
stench  seized  them  by  the  throat;  the  room  was  filled 
with  dense  and  choking  fumes. 


248  ll/or^s    of   Robert    Couis    Steuensoo 

Presently  these  began  a  little  to  disperse;  and  when 
at  length  they  drew  themselves,  all  limp  and  shaken, 
to  a  sitting  posture,  the  first  object  that  greeted  their 
vision  was  the  box  reposing  uninjured  in  its  corner,  but 
still  leaking  little  wreaths   of   vapor  round   the  lid. 

"Oh,  poor  Zero!"  cried  the  girl  with  a  strange  sob- 
bing laugh.  "Alas,  poor  Zero!  This  will  break  his 
heart!" 


THE   SUPERFLUOUS   MANSION   (concluded) 

Somerset  ran  straight  upstairs;  the  door  of  the 
drawing-room,  contrary  to  all  custom,  was  unlocked; 
and  bursting  in,  the  young  man  found  Zero  seated  on 
a  sofa  in  an  attitude  of  singular  dejection.  Close  beside 
him  stood  an  untasted  grog,  the  mark  of  strong  pre- 
occupation. The  room  besides  was  in  confusion;  boxes 
had  been  tumbled  to  and  fro;  the  floor  was  strewn 
with  keys  and  other  implements;  and  in  the  midst  of 
this  disorder  lay  a  lady's  glove. 

"I  have  come,"  cried  Somerset,  "to  make  an  end  of 
this.  Either  you  will  instantly  abandon  all  your  schemes, 
or  (cost  what  it  may)  I  will  denounce  you  to  the  police." 

"Ah!"  replied  Zero,  slowly  shaking  his  head.  "You 
are  too  late,  dear  fellow!  I  am  already  at  the  end  of 
all  my  hopes  and  fallen  to  be  a  laughing-stock  and 
mockery.  My  reading,"  he  added,  with  a  gentle  de- 
spondencv  of  manner,  "has  not  been  much  among 
romances;  yet  I  recall  from  one  a  phrase  that  depicts 
my  present  state  with  critical  exactitude;  and  you  be- 
hold  me   sitting   here   'like   a  burst   drum.'  " 

"What  has  befallen  you?"   cried   Somerset. 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  249 

"My  last  batch,"  returned  the  plotter,  wearily,  "like 
all  the  others,  is  a  hollow  mockery  and  a  fraud.  In 
vain  do  I  combine  the  elements;  in  vain  adjust  the 
springs;  and  I  have  now  arrived  at  such  a  pitch  of 
disconsideration  that  (except  yourself,  dear  fellow)  I  do 
not  know  a  soul  that  I  can  face.  My  subordinates 
themselves  have  turned  upon  me.  What  language  have 
I  heard  to-day,  what  illiberality  of  sentiment,  what 
pungency  of  expression!  She  came  once;  I  could  have 
pardoned  that,  for  she  was  moved;  but  she  returned, 
returned  to  announce  to  me  this  crushing  blow;  and, 
Somerset,  she  was  very  inhumane.-  Yes,  dear  fellow,  I 
have  drunk  a  bitter  cup;  the  speech  of  females  is  re- 
markable for  .  .  .  well,  well!  Denounce  me,  if  you 
will,  you  but  denounce  the  dead.  I  am  extinct.  It  is 
strange  how,  at  this  supreme  crisis  of  my  life,  I 
should  be  haunted  by  quotations  from  works  of  an  in- 
exact and  even  fanciful  description;  but  here,"  he 
added,  "is  another:  'Othello's  occupation's  gone.'  Yes, 
dear  Somerset,  it  is  gone;  I  am  no  more  a  dynamiter; 
and  how,  I  ask  you,  after  having  tasted  of  these  joys, 
am   I   to  condescend  to  a  less  glorious  life?" 

"I  cannot  describe  how  you  relieve  me,"  returned 
Somerset,  sitting  down  on  one  of  the  several  boxes  that 
had  been  drawn  out  into  the  middle  of  the  floor.  "I 
had  conceived  a  sort  of  maudlin  toleration  for  your 
character;  I  have  a  great  distaste,  besides,  for  anything 
in  the  nature  of  a  duty;  and  upon  both  grounds,  your 
news  delights  me.  But  I  seem  to  perceive,"  he  added, 
"a  certain  sound   of  ticking  in   this   box." 

"Yes,"  replied  Zero,  with  the  same  slow  weariness 
of  manner,    "I   have   set  several   of   them   going." 


250  U/orl^5   of   Robert    Couis    Steuei?5on 

"My  God!"  cried  Somerset,-  bounding  to  his  feet. 
"Machines?" 

"Machines!"  returned  the  plotter,  bitterly.  "Ma- 
chines indeed!  I  blush  to  be  their  author.  Alas!"  he 
said,  burying  his  face  in  his  hands,  "that  I  should 
live  to   say  it!" 

"Madmam!"  cried  Somerset,  shaking  him  by  the  arm. 
""What  am  I  to  understand?  Have  you,  indeed,  set 
these  diabolical  contrivances  in  motion,  and  do  we  stay 
here  to  be  blown  up?" 

"  'Hoist  with  his  own  petard'?"  returned  the  plotter 
musingly.  "One  more  quotation:  strange!  But  indeed 
my  brain  is  struck  with  numbness.  Yes,  dear  boy,  I 
have,  as  you  say,  put  my  contrivance  in  motion.  The 
one  on  which  you  are  sitting,  I  have  timed  for  half 
an  hour.     Yon  other — " 

"Half  an  hour!"  echoed  Somerset,  dancing  with 
trepidation.     "Merciful  heavens,    in   half  an  hour!" 

"Dear  fellow,  why  so  much  excitement?"  inquired 
Zero.  "My  dynamite  is  not  more  dangerous  than  toffy; 
had  I  an  only  child  I  would  give  it  him  to  play  with. 
You  see  this  brick?"  he  continued,  lifting  a  cake  of 
the  infernal  compound  from  the  laboratory  table;  "at 
a  touch  it  should  explode,  and  that  with  such  uncon- 
querable energy  as  should  bestrew  the  square  with 
ruins.     "Well,   now,   behold!     I  dash  it  on  the  floor." 

Somerset  sprang  forward,  and  <  with  the  strength  of 
the  very  ecstasy  of  terror,  wrested  the  brick  from  his 
possession.  "Heavens!"  he  cried*  wiping  his  brow, 
and  then  with  more  care  than  ever  mother  handled 
her  firstborn  withal,  gingerly  transported  the  explosive 
to  the   far  end  of    the  apartment,    the  plotter,   his  arms 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  251 

once     more     fallen     to    his    side,     dispiritedly    watching 
him. 

-     "It    was    entirely   harmless,"   he    sighed.      "They   de- 
scribe it  as  burning  like   tobacco." 

"In  the  name  of  fortune,"  cried  Somerset,  "what 
have  I  done  to  you,  or  what  have  you  done  to  your- 
self, that  you  should  persist  in  this  insane  behavior? 
If  not  for  your  own  sake,  then  for  mine,  let  us  de- 
part from  this  doomed  house,  where  I  profess  I  have 
not  the  heart  to  leave  you;  and  then,  if  you  will  take 
my  advice,  and  if  your  determination  be  sincere,  you 
will  instantly  quit  this  city,  where  no  further  occupa- 
tion  can  detain  you." 

"Such,  dear  fellow,  was  my  own  design,"  replied 
the  plotter.  "I  have,  as  you  observe,  no  further  busi- 
ness here,  and  once  I  have  packed  a  little  bag  I  shall 
ask  you  to  share  a  frugal  meal,  to  go  with  me  as  far 
as  to  the  station  and  see  the  last  of  a  broken-hearted 
man.  And  yet,"  he  added,  looking  on  the  boxes  wiih 
a  lingering  regret,  "I  should  have  liked  to  make  quite 
certain.  I  cannot  but  suspect  my  underlings  of  some 
mismanagement;  it  may  be  fond,  but  yet  I  cherish 
that  idea:  it  may  be  the  weakness  of  a  man  of 
science,  but  yet,"  he  cried,  rising  into  some  energy,  "I 
will  never,  I  cannot  if  I  try,  believe  that  my  poor 
dynamite   has   had   fair   usage!" 

"Five  minutes!"  said  Somerset,  glancing  with  horror 
at  the  timepiece.  "If  you  do  not  instantly  buckle  to 
your  bag,    I  leave  you." 

"A  few  necessaries,"  returned  Zero,  "only  a  few 
necessaries,  dear    Somerset,   and    you  behold   me   ready." 

He    passed    into    the    bedroom,   and   after  an  interval 


'Zb'Z  U/orKs   of   Robert   Couis   Stevepsoo 

which  seemed  to  draw  out  into  eternity  for  his  un- 
fortunate companion,  he  returned,  bearing  in  his  hand 
an  open  Gladstone  bag.  His  movements  were  still  hor- 
ribly deliberate,  and  his  eyes  lingered  gloatingly  on  his 
dear  boxes,  as  he  moved  to  and  fro  about  the  draw- 
ing-room, gathering  a  few  small  trifles.  Last  of  all,  he 
lifted  one  of  the  squares  of  dynamite. 

"Put  that  down!"  cried  Somerset.  "If  what  you 
say  be  true,  you  have  no  call  to  load  yourself  with 
that  ungodly  contraband." 

"Merely  a  curiosity,  dear  boy,"  he  said  persuasively, 
and  slipped  the  brick  into  his  bag;  "merely  a  me- 
mento of  the  past — ah,  happy  past,  bright  past!  You 
will  not  take  a  touch  of  spirits?  no?  I  find  you  very 
abstemious.  "Well,"  he  added,  "if  you  have  really  no 
curiosity   to  await  the  event — " 

"I!"    cried   Somerset.     "My  blood  boils  to  get  away." 

"Well,  then,"  said  Zero,  "I  am  ready;  I  would  I 
could  say,  willing;  but  thus  to  leave  the  scene  of  my 
sublime  endeavors—" 

Without  further  parley,  Somerset  seized  him  by  he 
arm,  and  dragged  him  downstairs;  the  hall-door  shut 
with  a  clang  on  the  deserted  mansion;  and  still  tow- 
ing his  laggardly  companion,  the  young  man  sped 
across  the  square  in  the  Oxford  Street  direction.  They 
had  not  yet  passed  the  corner  of  the  garden,  when 
they  were  arrested  by  a  dull  thud  of  an  extraordinary 
amplitude  of  sound,  accompanied  and  followed  by  a 
shattering  fracas.  Somerset  turned  in  time  to  see  the 
mansion  rend  in  twain,  vomit  forth  flames  and  smoke, 
and  instantly  collapse  into  its  cellars.  At  the  same 
moment,    he   was    thrown   violently   to  the    ground.      His 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  253 

first  glance  was  toward  Zero.  The  plotter  had  but 
reeled  against  the  garden  rail;  he  stood  there,  the 
Gladstone  bag  clasped  tight  upon  his  heart,  his  whole 
face  radiant  with  relief  and  gratitude;  and  the  young 
man  heard  him  murmur  to  himself:  "Nunc  dimittis* 
nunc   dimittis!" 

The  consternation  of  the  populace  was  indescribable; 
the  whole  of  Golden  Square  was  alive  with  men, 
women  and  children,  running  wildly  to  and  fro,  and, 
like  rabbits  in  a  warren,  dashing  in  and  out  of  the 
house  doors.  And  under  favor  of  this  confusion, 
Somerset  dragged   away  the  lingering  plotter. 

"It  was  grand,"  he  continued  to  murmur:  "it  was 
indescribably  grand.  Ah,  green  Erin,  green  Erin,  what 
a  day  of  glory!  and,  oh,  my  calumniated  dynamite, 
how   triumphantly  hast  thou  prevailed!" 

Suddenly  a  shade  crossed  his  face;  and  pausing  in 
the  middle  of  the  footway,  he  consulted  the  dial  of 
his  watch. 

"Good  God!"  he  cried,  "how  mortifying!  seven  min- 
utes too  early!  The  dynamite  surpassed  my  hopes;  but 
the  clockwork,  fickle  clockwork,  bas  once  more  betrayed 
me.  Alas,  can  there  be  no  success  unmixed  with  fail- 
ure? and  must  even  this  red-letter-day  be  checkered  by 
a  shadow?" 

"Incomparable  ass!"  said  Somerset,  "what  have  you 
done?  Blown  up  the  house  of  an  unoffending  old  lady, 
and  the  whole  property  of  the  only  person  who  is  fool 
enough  to  befriend  you!" 

"You  do  not  understand  these  matters,"  replied 
Zero,  with  an  air  of  great  dignity.  "This  will  shake 
England    to    the    heart.      Gladstone,    the    truculent    old 


254  U/or^s   of   Robert   Couis   SteueDSop 

man,  will  quail  before  the  pointing  finger  of  revenge. 
And   now   that  my   dynamite   is   proved  effective — " 

"Heaven,  you  remind  me!"  ejaculated  Somerset. 
"That  brick  in  your  bag  must  be  instantly  disposed 
of.     But  how?     If  we  could  throw  it  in   the  river — " 

"A  torpedo,"  cried  Zero,  brightening,  "a  torpedo  in 
the  Thames!  Superb,  dear  fellow!  I  recognize  in  you 
the  marks  of  an  accomplished    anarch." 

"True!"  returned  Somerset.  "It  cannot  so  be  done; 
and  there  is  no  help  but  you  must  carry  it  away  with 
you.  Come  on,  then,  and  let  me  at  once  consign  you 
to  a  train." 

"Nay,  nay,  dear  boy,"  protested  Zero.  "There  is 
now  no  call  for  me  to  leave.  My  character  is  now 
reinstated;  my  fame  brightens;  this  is  the  best  thing  I 
have  done  yet;  and  I  see  from  here  the  ovations  that 
await  the  author  of  the   Golden   Square   Atrocity." 

"My  young  friend,"  returned  the  other,  "I  give  you 
your  choice.  I  will  either  see  you  safe  on  board  a 
train   or  safe  in   jail." 

"Somerset,  this  is  unlike  you!"  said  the  chemist. 
"You  surprise   me,    Somerset." 

"I  shall  considerably  more  surprise  you  at  the  next 
police  office,"  returned  Somerset,  with  something  bor- 
dering on  rage.  "For  on  one  point  my  mind  is  set- 
tled: either  I  see  you  packed  off  to  America,  brick 
and  all,    or  else  you  dine  in  prison." 

"You  have  perhaps  neglected  one  point,"  returned 
the  unoffended  Zero:  "for,  speaking  as  a  philosopher, 
I  fail  to  see  what  means  you  can  employ  to  force  me. 
The   will,    my  dear  fellow — " 

"Now,   see    here,"    interrupted    Somerset.     "You    are 


jbe   Dynamiter  255 

ignorant  of  anything  but  science,  which  I  can  never 
regard  as  being  truly  knowledge,*'  I,  sir,  have  studied 
life;  and  allow  me  to  inform  you  that  I  have  but  to 
raise  my  hand  and  voice — here  in  this  street — and  the 
mob—" 

"Good  God  in  heaven,  Somerset!"  cried  Zero,  turn- 
ing deadly  white  and  stopping  in  his  walk,  "great  God 
in  heaven,  what  words  are  these!  Oh,  not  in  jest,  not 
even  in  jest,  should  they  be  used!  The  brutal  mob, 
the  savage  passions  ....  Somerset,  for  God's  sake, 
a  public-house!" 

Somerset  considered  him  with  freshly  awakened  curi- 
osity. "This  is  very  interesting,"  said  he.  "You  recoil 
from  such   a  death?" 

"Who   would  not?"   asked  the    plotter. 

"And  to  be  blown  up  by  dynamite,"  inquired  the 
young  man,  "doubtless  strikes  you  as  a  form  of  eu- 
thanasia?" 

"Pardon  me,"  returned  Zero:  "I  own,  and  since  I 
have  braved  it  daily  in  my  professional  career,  I  own 
it  even  with  pride:  it  is  a  death  unusually  distasteful 
to  the   mind   of    man." 

"One  more  question,"  said  Somerset:  "you  object  to 
Lynch   Law?    why?" 

"It  is  assassination,"  said  the  plotter  calmly;  but 
with  eyebrows  a  little  lifted,  as  in  wonder  at  the 
question. 

"Shake  hands  with  me,"  cried  Somerset.  "Thank 
God,  I  have  now  no  ill-feeling  left;  and  though  you  can- 
not conceive  how  I  burn  to  see  you  on  the  gallows,  I 
can   quite   contentedly   assist   at   your  departure." 

"I    do    not    very    clearly    take    your    meaning,"    said 


25b  U/or^s    of   Robert    Couis    Steuenson 

Zero,  "but  I  am  sure  you  mean  kindly.  As  to  my 
departure,  there  is  another  point  to  be  considered.  I 
have  neglected  to  supply  myself  with  funds;  my  little 
all  has  perished  in  what  history  will  love  to  relate 
under  the  name  of  the  Golden  Square  Atrocity;  and 
without  what  is  coarsely  if  vigorously  called  stamps, 
you  must  be  well  aware  it  is  impossible  for  me  to 
pass  the    ocean." 

"For  me,"  said  Somerset,  "you  have  now  ceased  to 
be  a  man.  You  have  no  more  claim  upon  me  than  a 
door  scraper;  but  the  touching  confusion  of  your  mind 
disarms  me  from  extremities.  Until  to-day,  I  alwajs 
thought  stupidity  was  funny;  I  now  know  otherwise; 
and  when  I  look  upon  your  idiot  face,  laughter  rises 
within  me  like  a  deadly  sickness,  and  the  tears  spring 
up  into  my  eyes  as  bitter  as  blood.  What  should  this 
portend?  I  begin  to  doubt;  I  am  losing  faith  in  skep- 
ticism. Is  it  possible,"  he  cried,  in  a  kind  of  horror 
of  himself — "is  it  conceivable  that  I  believe  in  right 
and  wrong?  Already  I  have  found  myself,  with  incred- 
ulous surprise,  to  be  the  victim  of  a  prejudice  of  per- 
sonal honor.  And  must  this  change  proceed?  Have  you 
robbed  me  of  my  youth?  Must  I  fall,  at  my  time  of 
life,  into  the  Common  Banker?  But  why  should  I  ad- 
dress that  head  of  wood?  Let  this  suffice.  I  dare  not 
let  you  stay  among  women  and  children;  I  lack  the 
courage  to  denounce  you,  if  by  any  means  I  may  avoid 
it;  you  have  no  money:  well  then,  take  mine,  and  go; 
and  if  I  ever  behold  your  face  after  to-day,  that  day 
will  be  your  last." 

"Under  the  circumstances,"  replied  Zero,  "I  scarce 
see  my  way  to  refuse  your  offer.     Your  expressions  may 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  257 

pain,  they  cannot  surprise  me;  I  am  aware  our  point 
of  view  requires  a  little  training,  a  little  moral  hygiene, 
if  I  may  so  express  it ;  and  one  of  the  points  that  has 
always  charmed  me  in  your  character  is  this  delightful 
frankness.  As  for  the  small  advance,  it  shall  be  remitted 
you  from   Philadelphia." 

"It  shall   not,"   said    Somerset. 

"Dear  fellow,  you  do  not  understand,"  returned  the 
plotter.  "I  shall  now  be  received  with  fresh  confidence 
by  my  superiors;  and  my  experiments  will  be  no  longer 
hampered  by  pitiful   conditions  of   the  purse." 

"What  I  am  now  about,  sir,  is  a  crime,"  replied 
Somerset;  "and  were  you  to  roll  in  wealth  like  Van- 
derbilt,  I  should  scorn  to  be  reimbursed  of  money  I 
had  so  scandalously  misapplied.  Take  it,  and  keep  it. 
By  George,  sir,  three  days  of  you  have  transformed  me 
to  an  ancient   Roman." 

With  these  words  Somerset  hailed  a  passing  hansom; 
and  the  pair  were  driven  rapidly  to  the  railway  ter- 
minus. 

There,  an  oath  having  been  exacted,  the  money 
changed  hands. 

"And  now,"  said  Somerset,  "I  have  bought  back 
my  honor  with  every  penny  I  possess.  And  I  thank 
God,  though  there  is  nothing  before  me  but  starvation, 
I  am  free  from  all  entanglement  with  Mr.  Zero  Pum- 
pernickel  Jones. ' ' 

"To  starve!"  cried  Zero.  "Dear  fellow,  I  cannot 
endure  the   thought." 

"Take  your  ticket!"   returned   Somerset. 

"I   think  you   display  temper,"   said   Zero. 

"Take  your  ticket,"   reiterated  the  young  man. 

17-  Vol.  XIV. 


258  U/orKs   of  Robert   Couis   Steuenson 

"Well,"  said  the  plotter,  as  he  returned,  ticket  in 
hand,  "your  attitude  is  so  strange  and  painful  that  I 
scarce  know  if   I  should   ask  you  to  shake    hands." 

"As  a  man,  no,"  replied  Somerset;  "but  I  have  no 
objection  to  shake  hands  with  you,  as  I  might  with  a 
pump- well  that  ran  poison   or  hell-fire." 

"This  is  a  very  cold  parting,"  sighed  the  dynamiter; 
and  still  followed  by  Somerset,  he  began  to  descend 
the  platform.  This  was  now  bustling  with  passengers; 
the  train  for  Liverpool  was  just  about  to  start,  another 
had  but  recently  arrived;  and  the  double  tide  made 
movement  difficult.  As  the  pair  reached  the  neighbor- 
hood of  the  bookstall,  however,  they  came  into  an  open 
space;  and  here  the  attention  of  the  plotter  was  at- 
tracted by  a  "Standard"  broadside  bearing  the  words: 
"Second  Edition:  Explosion  in  Golden  Square."  His 
eye  lighted;  groping  in  his  pocket  for  the  necessary 
coin,  he  sprang  forward — his  bag  knocked  sharply  on 
the  corner  of  the  stall — and  instantly,  with  a  formidable 
report,  the  dynamite  exploded.  When  the  smoke  cleared 
away  the  stall  was  seen  much  shattered,  and  the  stall- 
keeper  running  forth  in  terror  from  the  ruins;  but  of 
the  Irish  patriot  or  the  Gladstone  bag  no  adequate 
remains  were  to  be  found. 

In  the  first  scramble  of  the  alarm,  Somerset  made 
good  his  escape,  and  came  out  upon  the  Euston  Road, 
his  head  spinning,  his  body  sick  with  hunger,  and  his 
pockets  destitute  of  coin.  Yet  as  he  continued  to  walk 
the  pavements,  he  wondered  to  find  in  his  heart  a  sort 
of  peaceful  exultation,  a  great  content,  a  sense,  as  it  were, 
of  divine  presence  and  the  kindliness  of  fate;  and  he  was 
able    to    tell    himself    that    even    if    the  worst    befell,  he 


Jipe  Dyrjamlter  259 

could  now  starve  with  a  certain  comfort  since  Zero  was 
expunged. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  he  found  himself  at  the  door 
of  Mr.  Godall's  shop;  and  being  quite  unmanned  by 
his  long  fast,  and  scarce  considering  what  he  did,  he 
opened   the  glass  door  and  entered. 

"Ha!"  said  Mr.  Godall,  "Mr.  Somerset!  Well,  have 
you  met  with  an  adventure?  Have  you  the  promised 
story?  Sit  down,  if  you  please;  suffer  me  to  choose 
you  a  cigar  of  my  own  special  brand,  and  reward  me 
with  a    narrative  in  your  best  style." 

"I  must  not  take  a  cigar,"   said  Somerset. 

"Indeed!"  said  Mr.  Godall.  "But  now  I  come  to 
look  at  you  more  closely,  I  perceive  that  you  are 
changed.     My  poor  boy,  I  hope  there  is  nothing  wrong?" 

Somerset  burst  into  tears. 


EPILOGUE    OF   THE    CIGAR   DIVAN 

On  a  certain  day  of  lashing  rain  in  the  December 
of  last  year,  and  between  the  hours  of  nine  and  ten 
in  the  morning,  Mr.  Edward  Challoner  pioneered  himself 
under  an  umbrella  to  the  door  of  the  Cigar  Divan  in 
Rupert  Street.  It  was  a  place  he  had  visited  but  once 
before:  the  memory  of  what  had  followed  on  that  visit 
and  the  fear  of  Somerset,  having  prevented  his  return. 
Even  now,  he  looked  in  before  he  entered;  but  the  shop 
was  free  of  customers. 

The  young  man  behind  the  counter  was  so  intently 
writing  in  a  penny  version    book,   that  he  paid  no  heed 


260  U/orK5   of   Hol>ert    Couis    Steuepsoi) 

to  Challoner's  arrival.  On  a  second  glance,  it  seemed 
to  the  latter  that   he  recognized   him. 

"By  Jove,"   he    thought,    "unquestionably   Somerset!" 

And  though  this  was  the  very  man  he  had  been  so 
sedulously  careful  to  avoid,  his  unexplained  position  at 
the  receipt  of  custom  changed   distaste   to  curiosity. 

"  'Or  opulent  rotunda  strike  the  sky,'  "  said  the 
shopman  to  himself,  in  the  tone  of  one  considering  a 
verse.  "I  suppose  it  would  be  too  much  to  say  'oro- 
tunda,'  and  yet  how  noble  it  were!  'Or  opulent  oro- 
tunda  strike  the  sky.'  But  that  is  the  bitterness  of 
arts;  you  see  a  good  effect,  and  some  nonsense  about 
sense  continually  intervenes." 

"Somerset,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  Challoner,  "is  this 
a  masquerade?" 

"What?  Challoner!"  cried  the  shopman.  "I  am 
delighted  to  see  you.  One  moment,  till  I  finish  the 
octave  of  my  sonnet:  only  the  octave."  And  with  a 
friendly  waggle  of  the  hand,  he  once  more  buried  him- 
self in  the  commerce  of  the  Muses.  "I  say,"  he  said 
presently,  looking  up,  "you  seem  in  wonderful  preser- 
vation:   how  about   the  hundred    pounds?" 

"I  have  made  a  small  inheritance  from  a  great- 
aunt  in   "Wales,"   replied   Challoner  modestly. 

"Ah,"  said  Somerset,  "I  very  much  doubt  the  legiti- 
macy of  inheritance.  The  State,  in  my  view,  should 
collar  it.  I  am  now  going  through  a  stage  of  socialism 
and  poetry,"  he  added  apologetically,  as  one  who  spoke 
of  a  course  of  medicinal   waters. 

"And  are  you  really  the  person  of  the  —  establish- 
ment?" inquired  Challoner,  deftly  evading  the  word 
"shop." 


Jl?e   Dynamiter  261 

"A  vender,  sir,  a  vender,"  returned  the  other,  pock- 
eting his  poesy.  "I  help  old  Happy  and  Glorious.  Can 
I  offer  you  a   weed?" 

"Well,    I  scarcely  like     .     .     ."    began   Challoner. 

"Nonsense,  my  dear  fellow,"  cried  the  shopman. 
"We  are  very  proud  of  the  business;  and  the  old  man, 
let  me  inform  you,  besides  being  the  most  'egregious  of 
created  beings  from  the  point  of  view  of  ethics,  is 
literally  sprung  from  the  loins  of  kings.  *De  Godall  je 
suis  le  fervent.'  There  is  only  one  Godall.— By  the 
way,"  he  added,  as  Challoner  lighted  his  cigar,  "how 
did  you  get   on  with  the   detective   trade?" 

"I  did  not   try,"   said  Challoner  curtly. 

"Ah,  well,  I  did,"  returned  Somerset,  "and  made 
the  most  incomparable  mess  of  it:  lost  all  my  money 
and  fairly  covered  myself  with  odium  and  ridicule. 
There  is  more  in  that  business,  Challoner,  than  meets 
the  eye;  there  is  more,  in  fact,  in  all  businesses.  You 
must  believe  in  them,  or  get  up  the  belief  that  you 
believe.  Hence,"  he  added,  "the  recognized  inferiority 
of  the  plumber,  for  uo  one  could  believe  in  plumbing." 

"Apropos,"   asked   Challoner,    "do  you   still   paint?" 

"Not  now,"  replied  Paul;  "but  I  think  of  taking  up 
the    violin." 

Challoner's  eye,  which  had  been  somewhat  restless 
since  the  trade  of  the  detective  had  been  named,  now 
rested  for  a  moment  on  the  columns  of  the  morning 
paper,   where  it  lay  spread  upon   the    counter. 

"By  Jove,"   he  cried,  "that's  odd!" 

"What  is  odd?"   asked   Paul. 

"Oh,  nothing,"  returned  the  other:  "only  I  once 
met  a  person  called   M'Guire." 


262  U/or^5   of   Robert    Couis    Steueoson 

"So  did  I!"  cried  Somerset.  "Is  there  anything 
about  him?" 

Challoner  read  as  follows:  "Mysterious  death  in 
Stepney.  An  inquest  was  held  yesterday  on  the  body 
of  Patrick  M'Guire,  described  as  a  carpenter.  Dr. 
Dovering  stated  that  he  had  for  some  time  treated  the 
deceased  as  a  dispensary  patient,  for  sleeplessness,  loss 
of  appetite  and  nervous  depression.  There  was  no  cause 
of  death  to  be  found.  He  would  say  the  deceased  had 
sunk.  Deceased  was  not  a  temperate  man,  which  doubt- 
less accelerated  death.  Deceased  complained  of  dumb 
ague,  but  witness  had  never  been  able  to  detect  any 
positive  disease.  He  did  not  know  that  he  had  any 
family.  He  regarded  him  as  a  person  of  unsound  in- 
tellect, who  believed  himself  a  member  and  the  victim 
of  some  secret  society.  If  he  were  to  hazard  an  opinion, 
he  would  say  deceased  had  died  of  fear." 

"And  the  doctor  would  be  right,"  cried  Somerset; 
"and,  my  dear  Challoner,  I  am  so  relieved  to  hear  of 
his  demise  that  I  will —  Well,  after  all,"  he  added, 
"poor  devil,   he  was   well   served." 

The  door  at  this  moment  opened,  and  Desborough 
appeared  upon  the  threshold.  He  was  wrapped  in  a 
long  waterproof,  imperfectly  supplied  with  buttons;  his 
boots  were  full  of  waler,  his  hat  greasy  with  service; 
and  yet  he  wore  the  air  of  one  exceedingly  well  content 
with  life.  He  was  hailed  by  the  two  others  with 
exclamations  of  surprise  and  welcome. 

"And  did  you  try  the  detective  business?"  inquired 
Paul. 

"No,"  returned  Harry.  "Oh  yes,  by  the  way,  I 
did  though;    twice,  and  got  caught  out  both  times.     But 


fl?e   Dynamiter  263 

I  thought  I  should  find  my — my  wife  here!"  he  added, 
with  a  kind  of  proud  confusion. 

"What!    are  you  married?"   cried   Somerset. 

"Oh  yes,"  said  Harry,  "quite  a  long  time:  a  month 
at  least." 

"Money?"   asked   Cballoner. 

"That's  the  worst  of  it,"  Desborough  admitted. 
"We  are  deadly  hard  up.  But  the  Pri — Mr.  Godail  is 
going  to  do  something  for  us.  That  is  what  brings 
us  here." 

"Who  was  Mrs.  Desborough?"  said  Challoner,  in  the 
tone  of  a  man   of  society. 

"She  was  a  Miss  Luxmore,"  returned  Harry.  "You 
fellows  will  be  sure  to  like  her,  for  she  is  much  cleverer 
than  I.  She  tells  wonderful  stories,  too;  better  than  a 
book." 

And  just  then  the  door  opened,  and  Mrs.  Desborough 
entered.  Somerset  cried  out  aloud  to  recognize  the  young 
lady  of  the  Superfluous  Mansion,  and  Challoner  fell  back 
a  step  and  dropped  his  cigar  as  he  beheld  the  sorceress 
of  Chelsea. 

"What!"  cried  Harry,  "do  you  both  know  my 
wife?" 

"I  believe  I  have  seen  her,"  said  Somerset,  a  little 
wildly. 

"I  think  I  have  met  the  gentlemen,"  said  Mrs. 
Desborough,  sweetly;  "but  I  cannot  imagine  where  it 
was." 

"Oh  no,"  cried  Somerset  fervently:  "I  have  no  no- 
tion— I  cannot  conceive — where  it  could  have  been.  In- 
deed," he  continued,  growing  in  emphasis,  "I  think  it 
highly  probable  that  it's  a  mistake." 


264  U/orKs   of   Robert    Couis    Steueoson 

"And  you,  Challoner?"  asked  Harry,  "you  seemed 
to  recognize  her,    too." 

"These  are  both  friends  of  yours,  Harry?"  said  the 
lady.  "Delighted,  I  am  sure.  I  do  not  remember  to 
have  met   Mr.    Challoner." 

Challoner  was  very  red  in  the  face,  perhaps  from 
having  groped  after  his  cigar.  "I  do  not  remember  to 
have   had   the  pleasure,"   he  responded   huskily. 

"Well,   and   Mr.    Godall?"   asked    Mrs.    Desborough. 

"Are  you  the  lady  that  has  an  appointment  with 
old  .  .  .  ."  began  Somerset,  and  paused  blushing. 
"Because  if  so,"  he  resumed,  "I  was  to  announce 
you  at  once." 

And  the  shopman  raised  a  curtain,  opened  a  door, 
and  passed  into  a  small  pavilion  which  had  been  added 
to  the  back  of  the  house.  On  the  roof,  the  rain  re- 
sounded musically.  The  walls  were  lined  with  maps  and 
prints  and  a  few  works  of  reference.  Upon  a  table  was 
a  large-sc^le  map  of  Egypt  and  the  Soudan,  and 
another  of  Tonkin,  on  which,  by  the  aid  of  colored 
pins,  the  progress  of  the  different  wars  was  being  fol- 
lowed day  by  day.  A  light,  refreshing  odor  of  the 
most  delicate  tobacco  hung  upon  the  air;  and  a  fire, 
not  of  foul  coal,  but  of  clear-flaming  resinous  billets, 
chattered  upon  silver  dogs.  In  this  elegant  and  plain 
apartment,  Mr.  Godall  sat  in  a  morning  muse,  placidly 
gazing  at  the  fire  and  hearkening  to  the  rain  upon  the 
roof. 

"Ha,  my  dear  Mr.  Somerset,"  said  he,  "and  have 
you  since  last  night  adopted  any  fresh  political  prin- 
ciple?" 

"The  lady,   sir,"   said   Somerset,    with   another    blush. 


Tl?e   Dynamiter  265 

"You  have  seen  her,  I  believe?"  returned  Mr.  Godall; 
aud  on  Somerset's  replying  in  the  affirmative:  "You 
will  excuse  me,  my  dear  sir,"  he  resumed,  "if  I  offer 
you  a  hint.  I  think  it  not  improbable  this  lady  may 
desire  entirely  to  forget  the  past.  From  one  gentleman 
to  another,   no  more   words  are   necessary." 

A  moment  after,  he  had  received  Mrs.  Desborough 
with  that  grave  and  touching  urbanity  that  so  well 
became   him. 

"I  am  pleased,  madam,  to  welcome  you  to  my  poor 
house,"  he  said;  "and  shall  be  still  more  so,  if  what 
were  else  a  barren  courtesy  and  a  pleasure  personal  to 
myself  shall  prove  to  be  of  serious  benefit  to  you  and 
Mr.  Desborough." 

"Your  Highness,"  replied  Clara,  "I  must  begin  with 
thanks;  it  is  like  what  I  have  heard  of  you,  that  you 
should  thus  take  up  the  case  of  the  unfortunate;  and 
as  for  my  Harry,  he  is  worthy  of  all  that  you  can 
do."      She  paused. 

"But  for  yourself?"  suggested  Mr.  Godall — "it  was 
thus   you   were  about   to  continue,    I  believe." 

"You  take  the  words  out  of  my  mouth,"  she  said. 
"For   myself  it  is  different." 

"I  am  not  here  to  be  a  judge  of  men,"  replied  the 
Prince;  "still  less  of  women.  I  am  now  a  private  per- 
son like  yourself  and  many  million  others;  but  I  am 
one  who  still  fights  upon  the  side  of  quiet.  Now,  mad- 
am, you  know  better  than  I,  and  God  better  than  you, 
what  you  have  done  to  mankind  in  the  past;  I  pause 
not  to  inquire;  it  is  with  the  future  I  concern  myself, 
it  is  for  the  future  I  demand  security.  I  would  not 
willingly  put   arms  into   the    hands    of    a    disloyal  com- 


260  U/orKs  of  Robert  Couis  Steuei}&oi) 

batant;  and  I  dare  not  restore  to  wealth  one  of  the 
levyers  of  a  private  and  a  barbarous  war.  I  speak  with 
some  severity,  and  yet  I  pick  my  terms.  I  tell  myself 
continually  that  you  are  a  woman;  and  a  voice  con- 
tinually reminds  me  of  the  children  whose  lives  and 
limbs  you  have  endangered.  A  woman,"  he  repeated 
solemnly — "and  children.  Possibly,  madam,  when  you 
are  yourself  a  mother,  you  will  feel  the  bite  of  that 
antithesis:  possibly  when  }'ou  kneel  at  night  beside  a 
cradle,  a  fear  will  fall  upon  you,  heavier  than  any 
shame;  and  when  your  child  lies  in  the  pain  and 
danger  of  disease,  you  shall  hesitate  to  kneel  before 
your    Maker." 

"You  look  at  the  fault,"  she  said,  "and  not  at  the 
excuse.  Has  your  own  heart  never  leaped  within  you 
at  some  story  of  oppression?  But,  alas,  no!  for  you 
were  born  upon  a  throne." 

"I  was  born  of  woman,"  said  the  Prince;  "I  came 
forth  from  my  mother's  agony,  helpless  as  a  wren,  like 
other  nurslings.  This,  which  you  forgot,  I  have  still 
faithfully  remembered.  Is  it  not  one  of  your  English 
poets,  that  looked  abroad  upon  the  earth  and  saw  vast 
circumvallations,  innumerable  troops  maneuvering,  war- 
ships at  sea  and  a  great  dust  of  battles  on  shore;  and 
casting  anxiously  about  for  what  should  be  the  cause 
of  so  many  and  painful  preparations,  spied  at  last,  in 
the  center  of  all,  a  mother  and  her  babe?  These, 
madam,  are  my  politics;  and  the  verses,  which  are  by 
Mr.  Coventry  Patmore,  I  have  caused  to  be  translated 
into  the  Bohemian  tongue.  Yes,  these  are  my  politics: 
to  change  what  we  can;  to  better  what  we  can;  but 
still  to  bear   in    mind    that   man   is    but   a  devil  weakly 


Tl?e    Dynamiter  267 

fettered  by  some  generous  beliefs  and  impositions;  and 
for  no  word,  however  nobly  sounding,  and  no  cause, 
however  just  and  pious,  to  relax  the  stricture  of  these 
bonds." 

There   was  a  silence  of  a  moment. 

"I  fear,  madam,"  resumed  the  Prince,  "that  I  but 
weary  you.  My  views  are  formal  like  myself,  and  like 
myself,  they  also  begin  to  grow  old.  But  I  must  still 
trouble  you  for  some   reply." 

"I  can  say  but  one  thing,"  said  Mrs.  Desborough: 
"I  love   my  husband." 

"It  is  a  good  answer,"  returned  the  Prince;  "and 
you  name  a  good  influence,  but  one  that  need  not  be 
conterminous   with   life." 

"I  will  not  play  at  pride  with  such  a  man  as 
you,"  she  answered.  "What  do  you  ask  of  me?  not 
protestations,  I  am  sure.  What  shall  I  say?  I  have 
done  much  that  I  cannot  defend  and  that  I  would 
not  do  again.  Can  I  say  more?  Yes:  I  can  say  this: 
I  never  abused  myself  with  the  muddle-headed  fairy 
tales  of  politics.  I  was  at  least  prepared  to  meet  re- 
prisals. While  I  was  levying  war  myself — or  levying 
murder  if  you  choose  the  plainer  term — I  never  accused 
my  adversaries  of  assassination.  I  never  felt  or  feigned 
a  righteous  horror,  when  a  price  was  put  upon  my  life 
by  those  whom  I  attacked.  I  never  called  the  police- 
man a  hireling.  I  may  have  been  a  criminal,  in  short; 
but  never   was  a  fool." 

"Enough,  madam,"  returned   the  Prince:    "more  than 
enough!     Your   words   are    most    reviving  to  my  spirits; 
for  in   this   age,    when  even  the    assassin  is  a  sentimen 
talist,    there  is  no  virtue    greater    in    my  eyes    than    in- 


268  U/or^s   of   Robert   Couis   Steueoson 

tellectual  clarity.  Suffer  me  then  to  ask  you  to  retire; 
for  by  the  signal  of  that  bell,  I  perceive  my  old  friend, 
your  mother,  to  be  close  at  hand.  With  her  I  promise 
you  to  do  my  utmost." 

And  as  Mrs.  Desborough  returned  to  the  Divan,  the 
Prince,  opening  a  door  upon  the  other  side,  admitted 
Mrs.    Luxmore. 

"Madam  and  my  very  good  friend,"  said  he,  "is 
my  face  so  much  changed  that  you  no  longer  recognize 
Prince   Florizel  in   Mr.    Godall?" 

"To  be  sure!"  she  cried,  looking  at  him  through 
her  glasses.  "I  have  always  regarded  your  Highness 
as  a  perfect  man;  and  in  your  altered  circumstances, 
of  which  I  have  already  heard  with  deep  regret,  I 
will  beg  you  to  consider  my  respect  increased  instead 
of  lessened." 

"I  have  found  it  so,"  returned  the  Prince,  "with 
every  class  of  my  acquaintance.  But,  madam,  I  pray 
you  to  be  seated.  My  business  is  of  a  delicate  order 
and  regards  your  daughter." 

"In  that  case,"  said  Mrs.  Luxmore,  "you  may  save 
yourself  the  trouble  of  speaking,  for  I  have  fully  made 
up  my  mind  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  her.  I  will 
not  hear  one  word  in  her  defense;  but  as  I  value 
nothing  so  particularly  as  the  virtue  of  justice,  I  think 
it  my  duty  to  explain  to  you  the  grounds  of  my  com- 
plaint. She  deserted  me,  her  natural  protector;  for 
years,  she  has  consorted  with  the  most  disreputable 
persons;  and  to  fill  the  cup  of  her  offense,  she  has 
recently  married.  I  refuse  to  see  her,  or  the  being  to 
whom  she  has  linked  herself.  One  hundred  and  twenty 
pounds   a  year,    I    have    always  offered    her:     I  offer  it 


Jl?e    Dynamiter  269 

again.  It  is  what  I  had  myself  when  I  was  her 
age." 

"Very  well,  madam,"  said  the  Prince;  "and  be 
that  so!  But  to  touch  upon  another:  what  was  the 
income  of  the   Reverend   Bernard    Fanshawe?" 

"My  father?"  asked  the  spirited  old  lady.  "I  be- 
lieve he  had  seven   hundred   pounds  in  the  year." 

"You  were  one,  I  think,  of  several?"  pursued  the 
Prince. 

"Of  four,"  was  the  reply.  "We  were  four  daugh- 
ters; and  painful  as  the  admission  is  to  make,  a  more 
detestable   family  could   scarce   be  found  in   England." 

"Dear  me!"  said  the  Prince.  "And  you,  madam, 
have  an  income   of  eight  thousand?" 

"Not  more  than  five,"  returned  the  old  lady;  "but 
where  on   earth   are  you  conducting  me?" 

"To  an  allowance  of  one  thousand  pounds  a  year," 
replied  Florizel  smiling.  "For  I  must  not  suffer  you 
to  take  your  father  for  a  rule.  He  was  poor,  you 
are  rich.  He  had  many  calls  upon  his  poverty:  there 
are  none  upon  your  wealth.  And  indeed,  madam,  if 
you  will  let  me  touch  this  matter  with  a  needle,  there 
is  but  one  point  in  common  to  your  two  positions: 
that  each  had  a  daughter  more  remarkable  for  liveli- 
ness than   duty." 

"I  have  been  entrapped  into  this  house,"  said  the 
old  lady,  getting  to  her  feet.  "But  it  shall  not  avail. 
Not  all  the   tobacconists  in   Europe   ..." 

"Ah,  madam,"  interrupted  Florizel,  "before  what  is 
referred  to  as  my  fall,  you  had  not  used  such  lan- 
guage! And  since  you  so  much  object  to  the  simple 
industry  by   which    I    live,   let    me    give  you  a  friendly 


270  U/orl^s   of  Robert   Couls  Steuenson 

hint.  If  you  will  not  consent  to  support  your  daugh- 
ter, I  shall  be  constrained  to  place  that  lady  behind 
my  counter,  where  I  doubt  not  she  would  prove  a 
great  attraction;  and  your  son-in-law  shall  have  a  livery 
and  run  the  errands.  With  such  young  blood  my  busi- 
ness might  be  doubled,  and  I  might  be  bound  in  com- 
mon gratitude  to  place  the  name  of  Luxmore  beside 
that  of  Godall." 

"Your  Highness,"  said  the  old  lady,  "I  have  been 
very  rude,  and  you  are  very  cunning.  I  suppose  the 
minx  is  on  the  premises.     Produce   her.'' 

"Let  us  rather  observe  them  unperceived,"  said  the 
Prince;  and  so  saying  he  rose  and  quietly  drew  back 
the  curtain. 

Mrs.  Desborough  sat  with  her  back  to  them  on  a 
chair;  Somerset  and  Harry  were  hanging  on  her  words 
with  extraordinary  interest;  Challoner,  alleging  some 
affair,  had  long  ago  withdrawn  from  the  detested 
neighborhood  of  the  enchantress. 

"At  that  moment,"  Mrs.  Desborough  was  saying, 
"Mr.  Gladstone  detected  the  features  of  his  cowardly 
assailant.  A  cry  rose  to  his  lips:  a  cry  of  mingled 
triumph   ..." 

"That  is  Mr.  Somerset!"  interrupted  the  spirited  old 
lady,  in  the  highest  note  of  her  register.  "Mr.  Somer- 
set,   what  have  you  done   with  my  house-property?" 

"Madam,"  said  the  Prince,  "let  it  be  mine  to  give 
the  explanation;  and  in  the  meanwhile,  welcome  your 
daughter." 

"Well,  Clara,  how  do  you  do?"  said  Mrs.  Lux- 
more.  "It  appears  I  am  to  give  you  an  allowance. 
So  much  the  better  for    you.     As    for    Mr.    Somerset,    I 


JYje  Dyoamfter  271 

am  very  ready  to  have  an  explanation;  for  the  whole 
affair,  though  costly,  was  eminently  humorous.  And  at 
any  rate,"  she  added,  nodding  to  Paul,  "he  is  a  young 
gentleman  for  whom  I  have  a  great  affection,  and  his 
pictures   were  the  funniest  I  ever  saw." 

"I  have  ordered  a  collation,"  said  the  Prince.  "Mr. 
Somerset,  as  these  are  all  your  friends,  I  propose,  if 
you  please,  that  you  should  join  them  at  table.  I  will 
take   the  shop." 


END  OF  VOLUME  FOURTEEN 


mm  ubrot 


j 


